Saturday, September 26, 2015

Anglin Lake



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 

Land of the Loon Lodge