Archive
09/21/11 - (4)
Cabins by the Lake
Just by being here, being indoors, being, Ensconced, this afternoon, in my comforting cabin, Reading, listening to music, nibbling cashews, blueberries, Watching a flock of seven Canada geese feeding, I'm complicit with the rain saturating even the lake. And now, memory wanders down yesterday's wooded paths, Naming the trees and shrubs I see through time's lens:
Tamaracks, Norway and black spruces, dogwoods, Scotch, red, jack, Eastern-white, and Austrian pines, Cottonwoods, paper and yellow birches, viburnums, Cedars, staghorn sumacs, sandbar and weeping willows, Burr, white, and red oaks, mountain and black ashes, American elms, chokecherries, beech, sugar and red maples, Crabapples, scarlet hawthorns, aspens, lilacs, balsam firs.
Finishing my mind-hike, sensing an overwhelming urge To enter, again, those woods bordering the boys' camp, I hurriedly dress in my flannel shirt, jeans, shoes, And set off for that arboreal retreat, To speak to the trees and shrubs, Be sheltered from the rain, beneath their canopy of crowns — My other cabin by the lake.
09/21/11 - (4)
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