I hope you enjoy this meditation:
Going To The Symphony
It’s the last morning of our six day kayak trip around Isle Royale. Each night has been a little colder and this morning the air is cool and crisp. As I leave my tent, there is only a diffuse light in the sky. I gather my gear and head down the hill to the water. As I pull away from the landing in my kayak a fog bank thickly blankets the waterline and extends eight feet high. Hovering above the fog is a light mist.
I am well underway when I realize, I left my camera on the shore. I don't want to leave this idyllic setting but I decide to head back and retrieve my lost possession. Upon my return Gary Roach has already entered his boat and is ready to leave terra firma behind. Paul Kermgard, another member of our party is enjoying the early morning from the shore and he finds my camera for me. As I head out again, this time it is with Gary's company.
We turn our kayaks to head deeper into Chippewa Harbor but only after casting our gaze over our shoulders on distant Lake Superior, just outside the harbor. The sun will rise off the lake shortly, though it will be hidden from our view by the protection of the harbor and the cliffs at its entrance. The sky is a mixture of pastel pinks and blues and we are heading towards a distant marsh.
A Loon floats silently in the still waters before us. As we get too close, suddenly the Loon is gone, disappearing beneath the waters still dark surface. As we near our destination, I glance back and see the sun illuminating the mist and fog with a beautiful golden light. I alert Gary to the scene. It is the only words that have been or will be spoken between us. Anything more would merely be an interruption to the peaceful serenity that surrounds us.
We turn our boats to face the sun as it ascends above the treeline on the distant cliffs. The colors in the sky are reflected on the glasslike waters before us, and the sun continues to dance in the mist. As the sun rises higher above the treeline, it too is reflected in the water. A sailboat has been moored at this end of the harbor overnight. It nicely completes this picture of which we are fortunate enough to bear witness.
Though our paddles lie still across our decks we are very slowly drifting to the right. It is the effects of water flowing from the marsh on our left. I take a single corrective stroke with my paddle and place it back across my deck. As we continue to watch the light continually change the scene like a kaleidoscope before us, a single drop of water falls from my paddle blade. And then another and yet another. Plink, plink, plink they make a gentle sound and create small ripples as they return to the source from whence they came.
Behind me in the brush on shore, I hear a squirrel chirp. Numerous birds are singing in the
marsh and a woodpecker occasionally raps on a tree. The sky is golden now with the ever rising sun and its effects on the fog are breathtaking. It is a beautiful symphony of light and sound. A large array of flowers grow directly from the rock here which is made up largely of lava flows from volcanoes that have long been extinct.
I stop to inspect some pink flowers jutting from this rock where it rises out of the
water. Gary appears to be heading into the marsh now. I have decided to continue to a further corner of the harbor. Silently we part, each of us seeking in our own way to fulfill the promise brought by this new day.
Gregg Berman :o)
8/19/99