From the dock here on the Vernon River a storm can be better than any cinema man can make.
We had such an angry set of storms yesterday and last night.
When a great storm comes to the river, with the soul of nature's fury and the wonderment of her firey energies, the spectacle can only be surpassed by the difference in a soothing rain.
The dark of the clouds and the billowing process of this storm was a warning to bring in the sails.
Birds bunched together on power
lines like polka dots against the grays of heaven.The lone White Egret
made it's way south to a rookery somewhere in the bowels of Cumberland
The tide was as high as I have seen it in a while...since the spring
tides , at least.
The wind blew his song. An artist of nature would hear sweet music in this offering.
A small group of Mallards sought a haven in the marshes.
The great wind with his lips turned up in a gentle smile, teased them
by sending a ray of sun to trickle down . This tease was to let them know that the heavens were still blue above all those shadows and that HE, along with the billowing clouds, had formed a pact to dance across these islands like Tecumseh Sherman toward the sea.
The skies opened and the tears fell
The reeds bent to brace themselves for too much at once.
Then there were the smaller ducks. They caressed the shallows and were swept into the nook of the marshe's folds and then silently enveloped by the arms of her blades . They soon disappeared into her bosom of safety.
Even the Gulls that laugh were mute at the seriousness of the wind and
rain. Some were caught before they could reach shelter. They tried to fight the currents of wind and fought like Migs, constantly hammering the
clouds and being repelled over and over...never being able to give up the
space enough to get them ahead.
The sky was full of the energies of light with much anger being displayed
here. Lights similar to
multiple lanes on an interstate, where automobiles come together and head off
in opposite directions. These drivers in a mad rush on this Audobahn of heavens highways.
Next came the constant pounding of rain, solid steps of soldiers as
the drops hit the ground as a rhythmatic cadence of marchers. The fury was silenced after the marshmallow billows became sheer drapes,whispy and gently calming. The softer rains followed to comfort the nerves left raw by young children's cries of terror at the thunderous horrors their imaginations had stroked to the limit.
The storm exited with a tender touch of the Mother's hand on the heads
and shoulders of those that ventured out.
A soft rain kissed their
foreheads and played upon their faces as it dripped and tickled their cheeks
bringing wet smiles and shouts of laughter.
The greatest wonder after a gale like this is nature's own Michaelangelo.
This master paints the most beautiful sunset after a
storm. The rays of gold and pink with shades of blues, lavenders and
greens are set back as the tall skeleton of pines and palms give depth to the horizon.
Did you know that the reason we are 'set back' by a sunset and are
comforted by it's beauty is that the rays give off lithium? This is the
chemical that is soothing to our spirit, absorbed by the skin and the eyes and sets us in awe at the beauty and soft comfort of the sky, air-brushed from nature's soul. It gives us the warm fuzzies that immulate a good drug and seduces us into the sighs of approval of a job well done.
The birds greet each other and flock together to make their late start
home after the storm is over.
My personal savior of the sky is the
Woodstork. I have seen the same pair now several times in the last few days. These are the most graceful of birds , majestic, circling, seeking
the draft to soar more easily.
In my head played a symphony of wonder
by this majestic beauty . I could see necks stretched out and feet together, as ballerinas on' pointe with elegant wings , black to white...like fingers that grip the wind between each molecule to add credence to their sky dance. I could hear Ravel in my head as my mind teased me with a playful poke.
This magnificent visual at sunset
would dwarf the canvases of the great masters in art that I have always admired.
Nature has a way of humbling me.
There he was the little, cobalt Kingfisher with his white necklace
sitting and eyeing the waters for supper. His small head misshaped for a
purpose and his crown in salute to the waters below,designed for aerodynamics. He shot downward like an arrow and into the creek with the
grace of an Olympian diver. His splash hardly left a sparkle of drops as
his azure colors dipped into the darkness of the waters. He shot back up to fly with a small minnow, twisting and biting for the fluid to fill it's gills.The tiny silver shiney fish would never know that breath again.
I wish you could see through my eyes. My world is wonder in this most
beautiful expression of earths passions.It's a pallet painted with great knowledge and spirit.
The cat tails and marsh grass hold the nests of many water birds as they
wave back and forth with greetings from the salt marshes. Each morning
their hands gesture the warmest salutations to her inhabitants.
The Redwing Blackbird, the
Marsh Hen, Snowy Egret and the Great Blue Heron present a rainbow of feathered comfort for my eyes.
I appreciate each waking day.
Then we have the otters. They play in the creek in the mornings and late
afternoon. I watched them today toss a piece of styrofoam back and forth.
They leap from the creek to the mud banks and make their little clicking noises.
Curiosity gets the best of them as they venture close to me and beg for a
handout, their stench worth every dribble from their shiny, sienna bodies.
They speak with their eyes and beg for a can of tuna.I dare not accomadate them with the spoils of domesticity.
They are dedicated to one another and will mate for life. We mortals could take a lesson from these creatures.
I found the bones of an otter underneath some old dock steps after the rain.
Susan K. de Vegter
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|Reviewed by Sandra Mushi
|Beautiful imagery - I felt I was there with you, Karen.
|Reviewed by Ronald Hull
|A nice tribute to your little corner of the world.|
|Reviewed by Fr. Kurt Messick
|wonderful imagery here, and strong feelings too|
|Reviewed by J. Allen Wilson
|A very beautiful write that aptly describes the life on the Islands and marshes. Very well written and the composition on the photograph to the dock is splendid. Well done all the way round.
|Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
|heartwrenching write; well done, susan! :( (((HUGS))) and much love, your texas friend, karen lynn. >tears <|
|Reviewed by Tinka Boukes
|Thanks for letting me in...and sharing this with you...I cried too!!