Sunday, February 28, 2010
Today the wind came up a bit and made it not so pleasant to sit on the steps, so i actually got out quite a bit.
First I walked by the way of moose skull lake to barb's fen.
And now i need a word, it might be kettle, the geological meaning of the word kettle, depression.
But i will describe it all for you. At the east end of the lake i follow the tiny little creek, only a moose has gone before me this winter. The creek comes out in a swamp that i call barb's fen. It is a flat area with lots of bleached dead tree skeletons. This flat area the size of two football fields changes on the east into this landscape of 6 foot high hummocks. That's where the word kettle comes in. I find a knoll of dry grass to lay my head on and lay down. I imagine it to be a 'duinpannetje' (a hollow in the dunes) i lay sheltered in the shine of a watery sun, and around me the wind is roaring, like the crashing of waves in the distant, i can almost smell the salt and while i close my eyes for a while i feel your gaze upon me :) i get overcome by love, love for everything...
On the way back i look at all the details in the surroundings. The banks of the creek have little caves in them, full of treasures. And there is always the ice crystals. I walk all across the lake, with the wind. In the forest i take pictures of the sap on the spruce trees
And just now when i walk by the mirror, i am pleasantly surprised by my own reflection, maybe i did reinvent myself...