June 17, 2017
The morning light slowly gets brighter as the sun moves up over the tree covered hills. Bright blue sky with wispy clouds welcome the sun with open arms, as the lake reflects her light.
It is peaceful here in the morning light, peaceful by the rippling lake and tall northern pines. Bird songs and waves lapping, as I sit by the flickering fire, smelling bacon cooking on its heat, and the taste of tea on my tongue. A lovely morning in the boreal forest, so far north, so far from Colorado.
We woke early, in the early light of dawn. The air was chilled and still, the quiet of early morning. The ducks and crows woke first, ducks floating peacefully in the rolling water, and crows greeting each other and beginning their investigation of the forest around them. The pelicans awoke, soaring silently above the water or high above, or floating by, looking, watching, waiting.
Slowly, the sky got brighter, morning opened like a flower that holds the whole world, or at least this world, this place, a place apart, along that serpentine ancient lake. As the light increased, the activity did. The crazy ducks, circling above, flapping and quacking like mad crazy folk. The crows, too, their calls getting wider spread, calling out to one another in the growing morning light.
As the sky got lighter, the other birds awoke, high shrills, delighted trills, peeps and squawks and calls. The forest fully awoke, glad for a new day, a lovely day, a day like any other, but special, unique, as all days are.
And here we are to enjoy it, to greet the morning with the birds, to see the light across the gentle water of a lake that has rested here for so long, seeing so many such mornings, each unique, each special. And we share a smile in the morning light. This is peace.
~Bethany “Lorekeeper” Davis