A leaden grey morning

A leaden grey morning sitting on the dock trying to figure out the raucous gulls out front, whether those patches of ripples are schooling fish they are after, when i hear a splash here right in front of me to my left an osprey lifts off the water headed at me, hovers a moment to shake the drops off its wings and body, and still coming right at me looks me in the eye, makes a U turn back to the lake where it dives, picks up a small fish in its claw, shakes and carries the fish back past me overhead --- dark-winged the grey morning flies away.

Zphx, 20110729

A merganser on the dock

At evening the sound of rain before it rains, pummeling the water. Starting a fire when the sky clears. Now rain in West Castleton coming across the water. The sight of rain before it rains. The sound of rain...the sound of rain.

No way the fire is still going. But hot coals glow when the rain stops. Cook over the fire and eat as the sunset lingers, followed by a setting new moon and morning, a merganser on the dock, mist rising.

Zphx, June 25, 2009

The other day it rains all afternoon as i sit by an open window in my attic room thinking of you listening to the sound of rain. The sound of rain stirring the embers of memory. The heat of our flame. The sound of rain. 20190621

Osprey

June 9.

At evening on the dock notice a large bird flying by at a distance. It heads further away, way across the lake. Osprey? Yes. I keep my eye on him, a speck in the distance. He turns and, with two others in that unmistakable flight, lopes right back toward me, as if my recognition attracts them. One … two… three ospreys straight overhead. One lands in a large pine behind me, imprinting their call in my memory.

Zphx, June 9, 2009

A clearing wind

Sitting on the dock after dark on the cell phone to Liz luminous green sky reflected in the water, the sun aglow under the northern horizon, it is time for the moon to break through the night black clouds over my shoulder and a mallard hen and her young to paddle by in silhouette. Three low flying geese honk honk honk all the way to Wisconsin, and my battery dies.

This morning a message: “Your battery died. I am here now at home with Craig. He is watering the garden. We have planted oats and corn and pumpkin and watermelon and potatoes, including blue potatoes, beets, strawberries, beans, peas, bell peppers, tomatoes, tons of garlic, onion, cucumbers, squash and various wildflowers and clover. Everything is doing well and I am glad you called.”


Zphx, June 3, 2009

It is morning and it is evening the first day

Morning. Awake at the lake. Unable to relax because of the business of the day. But force myself to sit on the dock for an hour until sunlight breaks the dawn and lights the fog in West Castleton bay. See one osprey, a busy muskrat, mallards floating and mallards in whistling fast flight, noisy geese all the way from Rabbit island around Neshobe island splash off the point, then cruise across the lake. Song sparrow, chickadee, phoebe all alive and singing behind me. It seems the sapsuckers have quieted down.


Evening. Home in the woods. Jane in the last two days with help of cortisone has been able to walk alone in the woods for the first time in two years since her operation. She takes me with her tonight and shows me where not to step on the woodland flowers now out: dutchmen's breeches; trout lily, trillium, wood violet, spring beauty and others. Hermit thrush is back! The first day. Perhaps five in one spot with their circular flute calling. She teaches me how to distinguish its  voice from the wood thrush. Arriving back at our driveway in just enough light to see we hear an extended throaty vocalization, exuberant i might say, of a barred owl. Well beyond "who cooks for you."

It is morning and it is evening 25 April 2009.

Zphx