A Walk

I have yet to notice any open water on the lake but the sharp report of geese overhead relays the message that there is.  Casting my eyes towards the lake I can vaguely make out the the shapes of what I know to be brightly colored ice shanties.  They still dot this end of the lake so it must be the far end  that is open and attracting this morning's flock.  I can't see the geese above me nor see where they are landing but they sure are making a ruckus this morning.  

A robust, rolling fog ungulates and morphs in front of me, obscuring the landscape and rendering my path mysterious and unworldly.  From within the dense cover nature plays her soundtrack.  In voice is the urgent plea from a male cardinal for a mate, chiming in is the see-saw call of the red-wing blackbird, keeping perfect harmony is the haunting coo of a mourning dove and the heralding trumpet of the geese overshadows them all.  This symphonic blend of sound confirms my suspicions that spring is sneaking in under the guise of a cold, damp, sunless sky. 

I walk without purpose.  A casual gait with my mind deep in thought.  Thoughts of cereal and special bowls, of daughters and discoveries, of dear souls and special places.  All blended together with timeless desires of deep longing and ageless wonder.   I walk blind knowing only that the lake is to my right and what lays ahead is draped in a thick curtain of uncertainty...and today I am okay with what is, just as it is. 

Freestanding Freestanding
56-60, F
10 Responses Mar 9, 2010

It certainly does, frito and sometimes the tug is a mighty one. Thank you.

The sounds, sights and smells of Spring..."...All blended together with timeless desires of deep longing and ageless wonder..."<br />
So very well said Nancy...I truly believe nature tugs at our souls.:)

I noticed on the local news last night that they actually have rules and removal times for lakes and rivers. If yours sinks it will cost you to have it hauled out. The fines are quite harsh. <br />
<br />
Around here, in Hickville, we place junker cars on the ice and have fundraisers to guess when it will break through the thinning ice. <br />
<br />
Marji--it's cool though isn't it?

I find comfort in the fog. It's like nature is wrapping you in a treasured cuddle blanket of protection. It allows inward focus by obsuring your surroundings.

Yes, a magic of its own.<br />
Doesn't it make you wonder whether the ice fisherman might be stretching winter's magic just a bit too thin?

I guess we could say that about the other 3 seasons but spring does seem to hold a special magic all of it's own.

Yes, and the fog really adds to the magic and mysterious feeling doesn't it?<br />
It rolled in here around noon yesterday, and increased its intensity right into the night. By bed time, all the world was hush beneath a heavy blanket of murk.

And isn't that truly what makes spring so magical? Thank you, Juan:)

Beautifully stated, Nancy Drew. Spring has her way of inducing desire while simultaneously seducing us to take delight in what is, just as it is.

Thank you Marji. Take my hand we'll walk together.