voices call in solitude

(a small detour  from my beloved Tales of the Tuatha  )

A few impressions from my evening walk

Solitude is noisy.
Senses alert
Wind humming
and leaves pattering,
Swoosh of heron wings
on a mirror that shivers silver,
and beats a rhythmic lap
against the patient little bark,
Graciously singing her neglect

lonelyboat

 

seagulls dip and dive,
the tide moves back,
An empty doorway screams silently,
and desolation whispers enough
just as the sun breaks through,
and we become particles of light
suspended in the dance.

desolation

(Infra red study)

 Thetis Cove on Vancouver Island, home of the Songhees Nation and  near where they portaged their canoes over to Selkirk Waterway inlet and Pulkwutsang ( the place of Ghosts) There are many old middens to be found here along the beaches.

Fishermen used this abandoned shack for scaling fish they caught in the inlet.  Here where everything bends toward the east, you will see the wind!!!