October 14, 2011
Haiku My Heart is a weekly array of wonderful haiku and photos from all over the world. Every Friday we gather and connect. To see more and find out how you can participate in Haiku My Heart, see Rebecca's recuerda mi corazon blog.
A beautiful moon
The water makes it shimmer
Lovely, “He exclaimed”
I traveled up to the South shore of the Great Lake Superior this past week. I went for one of my water runs. I was literally down to a few glassfuls left in the bottom of the crock that holds the large 5-gallon carboy containers.
Over the years since I moved away from Ashland, WI, I also have need for a few items I used to buy at various places along the South shore of this great lake. Fresh Lake Trout filets at Port Wing. Licorice for Mrs. Spadoman at Homestead Gardens in Washburn. Italian sausage at Louis’ Finer Meats in Cumberland. Cheese at the Burnett County Creamery.
I made all these stops and a couple more on a two day excursion last Monday and Tuesday. I went with a friend that went along for the ride. He sleeps later than I do, so I got out of the motel room early and drove over to a public landing just before dawn.
At that public landing, I watched a very large almost full moon set into Lake Superior. I did not have my usual camera, but I did have the cell phone camera and I snapped off a couple of shots. These are the result. I inverted one and saw the natural punctuation. I just had to share.
 |
| Front lawn at The Crest Motel overlooks Chequamegon Bay of Lake Superior |
After Ole Sol came up to brighten the day, I sat on an outdoor chair on the front lawn of the Crest Motel. I wrote prose in my head and when I got home, I posted what I had written. I want to post that writing again on this post even though it appears on the post previous to this one here at Round Circle. I hope you don’t mind. I also hope it brings you to a good place. It did for me.
 |
| Might be a nasty habit, but it's about the only vice I have left |
Peace
The Water
The outdoor wooden chair structure was actually two seats with arm rests, connected in the middle with a built in table. I sat there, as the sun rose over my right shoulder and the landscape, at the water’s edge. My right ankle atop my left leg just above the knee.
My arms were resting. Right on the arm rest, left on the table. My hands were touching the fabric of my trousers, My fingers were feeling warm against the dark brown fabric that was catching the rays of the sun. My index finger was extended somewhat, catching the early morning coolness that was still in the air.
My shadow had been stretched across the lawn for forty yards, now closer to me, twenty feet. The flags hung still, lifeless, no breeze moving their folds. No one waving at me.
The water lay beyond the road. A lone fishing boat drifting, trolling by in the distance. My loft was on a knoll, above the road and water. Traffic moved left to right and right to left, steady, in bunches, with quiet intervals, trucks, cars, people, moving to and fro.
Behind the roofline of the last building was an eagle. Perched in the branches of a tree that had been stripped of its colorful Fall foliage from winds the days before now.
My eyes darted, the eagle, the water, the traffic, the water, the flagpole, the water, the eagle, my shadow, the water, the eagle, the water, the eagle, the water, the eagle, the water, the water, the water.
The eagle stood still and flapped his giant black wings. I adjusted my position, moving my right leg and exchanging it with my left. My index finger still cold in comparison to the rest of my digits. The water.
I listened to my breath. There was no sound, but I heard it. I followed it into and out of my body. I watched my stomach rise and fall. I felt that finger, extended, I felt the coolness of the morning. The water.
Now. The water is always now, always there. The eagle watches here daily. I pass through, returning to a place I have been before with long intervals in between my visits. The water has such energy. I feel it.
I watch and know that this large mass of the Sacred Earth Mother’s life blood affects us all, affects the land that rises from it, the sand and soil pushed into where I sit by glaciers millions of years ago. This view has always been here. The water always here. The eagle still stands nearby, seeing what I am seeing.
He glances at me as I glance back. Our eyes meet. I feel it. The water glistens in the sun as small waves start to form. The boat is gone. The flags move. My shadow is next to me. I flap my wings. The eagle adjusts his position. It is morning. My finger is cool. My heart still beats. The water soothes, heals and comforts.
More Peace
