Sunday, March 6, 2011


Reflecting on Opposites

The mirror-smooth lake's surface of last week in no way reflects on current conditions.  It's blowing in the high 20mph range, and is to continue in the near 30mph range until next Thursday.  It's a good thing I got out the other day when I did.  It somehow seems counter-intuitive that a sailor, who has depended on the wind to blow him around the oceans, and who has sat for hours waiting for it to arrive, would find himself lamenting having too much of it.  But, that's just how it is.  It will blow 30 to 50 mph here for days, even weeks, on end.  Just as too much ice cream will make you sick, I find myself really sick of too much wind, especially now that I'm wanting to paddle.  So, a little rhyme to pass the time......

 Fierce and fine and free

                                                       There are those who are most alive
                                                              Around some river bend
                                                     In spring the young ones call my name
                                                                But I am gone again

                                                  Ghosts and dreams and desperate schemes
                                                               Considered – and forgot
                                                               Cornered in the alley, yes
                                                                 But never, ever caught

                                                            I’ve done my time at my desk
                                                                  Pretending to be me
                                                              I am in truth on river bends
                                                                 Fierce and fine and free

                                                              A flash of paddle on the lake
                                                                 A dancer on the creeks
                                                          In May the old men call my name
                                                                But only distance speaks
                                                     Lenny Everson

No comments:

Post a Comment