The tumultuous thunderstorm of early morning had passed, and the fog was lifting. I arrived at Piney Woods Church Road to discover, quite literally, a river running through it — flowing down the roadway and into the very same ruts that had been covered in ice just a few days before (see Day Seven). Now, the rut held a lovely pattern of ripple marks, sedimentary structures formed by the action of water flowing across the silt of the roadbed. I tried to take a photo of the ripple marks without any reflections present, mostly for my own appreciation as a geologist. But each time I attempted to do so, I ended up in the photograph, regardless of which side of the rut I stood, or how wet my feet became in the process. Ironically, the result was this delightful self-portrait.
