A Stationary Canvas with Nothing for me to Paint on

Sky more distant and slow than at the end of last week, a stationary canvas with nothing from me to paint on besides the image of a likely day to catch a trout, despite the mirror surface. The coots never left where I photographed them and I have no idea what the attraction was. I was more fascinated in the black and white shot, this one of those infrequent days when a photograph interested me more than the surroundings. 

The balance appealed. I spent the hour in the car writing at rapid pace, drawn in and abstracted rather than taking sense impressions. But I did notice the reservoir bottom through aqua marine green extending into depths, which weeks of wind had obscured, and which made me remember May and bass fishing with a desire to do some more in the spring. 

If it weren't for Round Valley Reservoir and other diversions off the highways, I'd just be doing the same damned machine process over and over, clearly in keeping with Albert Einstein's definition of insanity. Does anyone really think we'll get a different result in the economy we have now? By doing the same thing over and over?