A sense of urgency over came the sense of peace this morning, during a solitary walk on the fresh-cut fairway of No. 3 Waters Edge. Gray storm clouds gathered and turned as gusts of wind rushed through a grove of Norwegian pine on the west edge. A palette of pinks, reds and whites had been organized on a verdant green canvas, as bright yellow flags whipped and snapped. Soft white petals, having successfully attracted the bees to pollen, had since lost their tiny grips and become fallen snow on the bluegrass. Surely they would melt soon.
Many times the golfer had admonished others to simply relax when you come upon such a magnificent symphony. Just listen and experience the peace, learn from it, he said. You'll never be able to capture it, hold it. No camera or mechanical device can keep it. Just let it be. Enjoy. It's for you.
But he just couldn't help it. This was way too cool. So he left his clubs on top of the hill, drove home, got his camera and came back to try to do what you can't do.
Even so, you are invited to click to enlarge these images.