They say there are bears and moose in these parts
but we have seen the little things
a bird on the path, hopping just ahead
robins playing in the leaves
woodpecker flitting from trunk to trunk
knocking occasionally
golden leaves drifting down
squirrels chattering
lake calming
loon calling
boats drifting
birch trees, gold tipped
or hollowed fuel for scribe and fire
streak of blue jay
patrolling ravens
chattering chickadees
cabin owners came out as we hiked by
showed us pictures of the garden
before the golf ball sized hail of
July 22
chatting about life at the cabin
lotsa bear, all colors - black, brown, cinnamon
moose came by this morning
'poor man's orchids' just started blooming
taking down the 'widow makers' (dead trees ready to fall across a walking path)
We continued on, walked all the way to Anderson's cabin
moose tracks ice cream was the reward waiting in the freezer when we got back
The lake flattening is mesmerizing
from ripples
to glassy waves
to glass
it mirrors the wind
sound is amplified over water
like sound across a wintered field
sun steadily slipping down through the trees
now banking off the water
amplified light, just like sound
this is my Father's world
I rest me in the thought
of rocks and trees and skies and seas
that round me rings
... the music of the spheres
fragments of a song long ago sung
Loon calls as sunlight hits the water
clouds hide the final crossing of sky
as Randy comes out with the camera
certain that the sun will still
throw color down
and the lake rolls again
some silent vessel has disturbed the surface
the shores echo in protest
the woodpecker has resumed its hunt in earnest
lake and sky hold the light
while trees and shoreline darken
to silhouettes
finally breathe out the last breath of light
and then sparks of light
deep in the heavens
and the nearly full rising moon
begins to spill light back onto the trees
as we sit by our fire
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| Land of the Loon Lodge |
