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All evening, I had been hearing the geese. In my mind, I imagined a flock had deviated from its course to Middlecreek, and decided to stay the night here, but I was just too exhausted to walk down the hill one more time to see. I’d been fighting a virus all week, and yesterday’s activities had finally whooped me. So, instead I dreamed them thoughout the long night.

Waking early and feeling somewhat rested, the returning birds beckoned me to leave the house just after dawn. There were a few other humans out, drawn like me to the early spring songs, which have just begun to break the long silence.

As the water came into view, I was at first disappointed … but smiled in spite of myself. No flocks had amassed to whiten the water’s surface, just a few Canada geese passing through.

Soon enough, though, my disappointment turned to enchantment. The mirrored surface of the water was catching the morning light, reflecting the wintered trees —revealing the intricate skeletal details of some, the slender whitened trunks of others–like a painting by Monet. Several courting pairs of ducks glided across the far shoreline… a male mallard and his mate,  a female wood duck and hers…. rippling the water into wavering lines of color.  Watching the scene unfold, from what I first thought to be a ‘disappointment’,  I was stilled to delight and stirred to silence, as quickly as by a hypnotist’s watch.

Reflections like this always entrance me, the way it seems as if you should be able to reach into them and touch something solid in your hand, the way they whisper of other dimensions beneath the surface, the way you can’t always discern where the physical ends and the reflection begins. They make me wonder about what I see that I think is real, what I don’t see that is. They make me ponder beauty.

In the silence, I felt only gratitude. For this moment, for both my body’s fatigue and its hopeful imagination, for being stirred from my sleep before dawn by the awakening spring, for dreams of snow geese, for the honking of Canada’s, for tranisitory visitors, for these presences that remind me that this world is a magical one, awaiting my notice, for something beneath reflecting this one, for Love in my heart.

For the presences in this day.

(click on images below for larger views)

1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Anonymous
    Mar 11, 2016 @ 16:29:35

    Times like that are such a gift…. And, if you hadn’t been so tired the day before and walked down ‘one more time,’ you might have missed the morning light! A gift specially wrapped.



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