Thursday, April 8, 2010
Let me go back.
Back to the island. Back to what I love...sleeping in the woods, paddling my kayak, walking the animal trails, resting. Breathing. Feeling. Watching and listening.
Just the two of us, away from the city for a brief period of us time. Together, but alone. We're on an island.
An early morning paddle and we meant to paddle up to the mouth of the river. We never made it, but instead found our way to this delightful little marina. Run-down and ramshackle, covered with cobwebs, nests in the rafters and dock boards so worn and weak I thought they might crack under my weight. They held, thankfully. I didn't want to swim. It's April and the water is barely out of the 30's. Is it?
Our gentle breeze is no longer. A wind now, urging us to go back. The sky darkening and still we turn into a cove, lured by the call of eagles. Where are they? Do you see them? Yes, over there, high in the trees. An adult Bald Eagle and a mud head, a youngster. Soon his sibling appears, but he crashes roughly as he tries to land in the tree. We laugh, he needs more practice. Ruffled, he continues on his flight, turning North towards the arie. More wind. We must go back. The sky is very dark and a cold misty rain has begun to fall. Time to go back to the safety and haven of our little camp. Coffee, breakfast, wrapped in a blanket for warmth. Rain, lots of it. More wind. Ah, yes, a wonderful time to nap.
Later, after the rain, the sky clears to a beautiful clear blue. A Mute Swan and a Tundra are having a show of dominance...it's Spring, after all, and love is at stake. Clever Tundra, he is swimming away, followed by the Mute, when he suddenly takes flight, circles over the Mute and heads back towards the female. Oh, enormous beautiful birds. Great splashes and flapping of wings as the Mute catches up to the Tundra to drive him off and then it's over. The Tundra climbs the bank and sits back just so, watching the Mutes, waiting for another chance that does not come.
Nature is doubly beautiful this morning. The reflections cause us to see things that are not there. People, faces, animals, fish. She's a clever one this Nature.
But who is this wildly crazy woman who so loves Nature, who seeks to bond with her and feel her spirit in the wind and sun and sounds? Oh, silly, it's me. That's me.
Let me go back.