Monday, May 11, 2009
I leave an hour before sunset or so, fully intending to greet the moon on the water. I wonder what will be in the water to greet me as I push off shore, paddling slowly, steadily toward the black abyss. Fish jump. This is my church, the practice of being still, silent, my religion. If you are quiet enough, nature reveals itself to you.
A pair of muskrats bob up. Bard owls call from distant trees.
I remember trolling with my dad at this time of day - dusk, when the dew settles, and eerie sounds echo from shore. Now, as an adult, I know those sounds are just animals celebrating and giving thanks to the end of another day. Somewhere in the distance, a bald eagle cries in the east.
There is no better medicine for me, and no better prescription for me to find peace.
Here are some photos from mother's day:
Happy Mother's Day