LETTER FROM THE CAMP 05-13-2018

At camp. It’ very early in the morning and the sun is already up. The lake is very still like a sleeping babe. I know it may sound like a cliche but the lake is like a mirror. Is that trite? Perhaps I could be more poetic and say that this reflection is like a virtual visible echo. Or, a perfect watery footprint--a fitting impression I think. Does that work? All around the lake the reflection seems to look back at itself like someone glancing over their shoulder. The greens of the straggled balsams and  variable browns of the newly budding hardwood trees seem in stark contrast to the colors of reds and gold foliage that greet my eyes when I view this same waterscape in the fall. Nature shows us a new face everyday, and we should never worry that we will ever see the same face twice. A perfect design every day. If I believed in a god I would feel blessed by this change of habit--but I don’t. As it is I still regard the visions that I see here as the perfections of nature, and leave it as that.
In the azure sky wisps of mare’s tails stretch across the firmament. These cirrus clouds move slowly along, like the effect of equine motion that the mare’s tails imply--almost thematically perfect. To the east this morning a stronger band of cumulus clouds look like clotted cream. While the wind normally comes out of the west or northwest here, today will be an exception as the cloud band in the east seems to be moving toward the camp.
The breeze is strengthening and now ripples are forming on the surface of this remote lake. The reflection of the far shore is now just a fading memory as the sun moves higher this morning. A blue jay flys across the cabin clearing.
I sip my coffee and watch as nature beckons.

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