This is a photo of Coniston Water taken from a lakeside position below Brantwood, formerly John Ruskin's house.
As you see, there is nothing much to it apart from some water and a jetty with hills in the distance. Yet somehow the light on the water made it worth a photo. If I'd turned my camera away from the light, the water would have been a dark mass, cold and uninteresting.
Yet what does one say about a common enough sight? And if we do say something, do the words mould the picture or does the picture mould the words? Both presumably, but for me there is also a stillness which needs no words. Too easy to say too much.
One of those contemplative scenes, easy to gaze on while thinking of nothing in particular.