And so it goes... The herons, bitterns and loons have flown south for the winter, and the bay is a quiet place, a gossamer veil of mist floating above the still dark water. Geese and ducks are still in residence, but their enthusiasm is waning by the day, and when they have hoovered up the stubble in local farm fields, they will be gone too.
Hunkered down on my favorite rock with Beau, I think of the great northern divers (loons) calling to each other across the water here a few weeks ago, of the creaky voices of herons standing motionless among the reeds in the shallows at sunset. This place is home, and we are happy to be here, cold and wind notwithstanding.
Most of the trees on the shore are evergreens and do not change colour in autumn, but here and there are flashes of scarlet maple, coppery beech and yellow birch among the dark green cedars, spruces and pines. For the moment, the tamaracks (larches) are holding on to their green needles, but within a few days, they will dazzle in brilliant gold, and it will seem as though all the treasures of the living world are spilled at our feet.
As often as I have witnessed such wonders in this old life, the turning of the Great Wheel from summer toward autumn and the riches on display never cease to amaze me. Hallelujah, the Old Wild Mother has done it again.
1 comment:
Such a peaceful spot! Water like glass. I an almost hear the loons myself :)
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