resting on a mountain of memories
this is what i know to be true....
when the first loon calls,
desire will catch in your heart
suspending time
somewhere
between
their longing and your own.
as your footsteps quiet
on the last stone
only your eyes will move
searching the shallow waters
schools of cinnamon brown fish clinging to the shoreline,
and just as suddenly realize
they are pine cones of winter,
fallen, forgotten and tumbled into the lake.
they will be first to greet you
swaying so silently close, just beneath the sunlit water
like so many beloved ancestors
sorrowfully gone
clinging to each other in their eternal quest
to remain near us...
hanging on each grateful syllable
they too are suspended in time,
their voices all tied up with ours
in the longing of loons..
here the details of life slip away like so many autumn leaves,
abandoned in the dark shadows of sun warmed paths
for time worn buckets
soon rich with laughter, mushrooms, mosquitoes and
berries.
than being present, to cheer on each lengthening child
as they mark their milestones
driving the old willy's jeep
skiing, two skis, one ski,
ahhhhhh brazenly barefoot
across the sun warm water of youths dreams.
what remains true is knowing
there is nothing more important than
simply being
in love
with the creak of the screen door and every treasured visitor it brings.
seeing your beloved, aging mother, husband, wife..
as the child they once were....
skimming across the water...
golden in the firelight
together around the breakfast table
forever brightened with summer's flowers
and longer, cherished memories...
taking us
back back back....
to everything
that is forever important
a bud vase
with wild fragrant roses
on a sunbright table, in a blue-grey cabin
resting on a mountain of memories
with a heart
like a door
that is always open.
***
my husband flew to side lake on monday..
to be with his mother, sister and two out of five brothers.
it is strangely quiet here.
especially with parts of me
all wrapped up
in the longing of loons.
What a beautiful post, Rebecca! I love the call of the loons, but there is something lonely about it.
Posted by: Leslie M | August 10, 2011 at 10:50 AM
Bittersweet I would think...cherishing the quiet, by yourself moments but would be lovely too to be with the loons.
beautiful images of this taste of summer.
x..x
Posted by: Stephanie | August 10, 2011 at 12:01 PM
How did you manage to evoke exactly what I am feeling?
Posted by: Ms. Moon | August 10, 2011 at 02:41 PM
This is a piece of art! And I adore this: "cinnamon brown fish" --
Posted by: Elizabeth | August 10, 2011 at 10:34 PM
Rebecca, I have never heard a loon in my life, but I can imagine them... after reading your beautiful words and drinking in the lovely images, my soul feels so much calmer. Thank you xxx
Posted by: Rosie | August 11, 2011 at 02:00 AM
My dear friend. Your words are so beautiful. I feel the longing you feel. I am with you, up there, at the cabin. I am one of the guests, drinking coffee, having breakfast. We'll talk and sit outside as it is glorious these days up here in the Northland. So sorry you couldn't make the trip. Strong prayers from the lodge are sent your way for all that need them.
I have been busy, living life, and more activities happening. Maybe I'm planning too much, but it is what Creator is telling me to do these days.
May you have much peace in your heart and in the hearts of all you hold dear.
Posted by: Spadoman | August 11, 2011 at 04:38 AM
What can one comment on after reading such love and longing pour out from your heart through your pen. You spin words of introspection, deep thinking and pure love of place, time present and past. What you speak is truth, a truth that many of us hold but haven't the ability to express through written prose. I think I will never forget the image of cinnamon brown fish...that sprang out at me and made we want to paint them. Perhaps you can sculpt them or form in glass. The photos must be of your home...such a place of calm and peace. Your heart longs to be elsewhere, and yet you bless us with your words, I hope your family is able to read this. Smiles: Sharon
Posted by: sharon furner | August 11, 2011 at 06:07 AM
Oh I want to escape to your sanctuario. I have dreams of summers past filled with wild lakes and laughing children. Sigh. Thank you for refreshing those dreams with your words and images.
Posted by: Paintdiva | August 11, 2011 at 07:09 AM
Dear rebecca,
Your description was so real and so near, I was certain that you were there. This is a place that you visit each year with your family and so much a part of your heart. I am reminded of E.B. White's "Once More to the Lake" after reading this post, you have conjured up so many poetically beautifully images of natural beauty. And Mary Oliver herself could not have written a more descriptive or heart compelling piece filled with such love and loon-longing. It strikes the heart there is so much beauty here. I am sorry that I have not been by and glad that I stopped today. Reading this was like visiting a dream. True art.
Love,
Noelle
Posted by: Noelle Clearwater | August 11, 2011 at 09:45 AM
How blessed we are to be able to read your words Rebecca, it feels like it would have been sitting beside Monet or some other great master as their oils stroked blank canvas, transforming into a beautiful masterpiece. I'm sure we are witnessing art in the making. Have you got them all in book-form yet?
Sue x
Posted by: Sue Fox | August 11, 2011 at 12:01 PM
Wow...what a stunning collection of images with words. Quiet is good, I think. Gives one time to go within.
Where is Side Lake?
Posted by: Paula Scott: Molokai Girl Studio | August 11, 2011 at 04:07 PM
Beautiful post Rebecca ... I love those loon pictures and the views upon your lake!
Posted by: missing moments | August 11, 2011 at 08:22 PM
It's like I was there at the lake with you, pondering your very thoughts, reveling in both the joys and sorrows in that sacred place. What lovely memories are being made for you and your family during this precious slice of summer.
Posted by: Dawn Elliott | August 11, 2011 at 08:39 PM