Out My Back Door (Click to view animation)

Imagine you are standing on the edge of a great lake.  On the horizon there are tall pines, reduced to dark tufts of fur.  The next moment, the trees are only soft clouds with dark undersides.  You can't be sure.  It's the middle of the afternoon, it's impossible to tell how long you've been there, but everything has the warm color of dusk in the summertime.  You are extremely drunk.  Are those reflections the dark lines of a sailboat's mast, or are they low hanging branches?  There's almost no way to be sure.