Today’s the day I celebrate AND THE BULLFROGS SING at two schools (Harrison and McBride) and conclude with a program this evening at The Library Center. I look forward to it all.
I’m also happy to report that we appear to have a self appointed watch-goose keeping an eye on things around the lake. It’s only the second time in almost thirty years of living here that I’ve seen a goose land on a roof. This adventuresome spirit is facing out toward the lake. Makes me want to imagine a dialogue with him or her in the next day or so.
This morning Goose Lake reminds me of the poem I wrote about such a morning in my one and only e-book, GOOSE LAKE, A YEAR IN THE LIFE OF A LAKE. Here’s the Amazon link if you’re interested. https://www.amazon.com/s?k=goose+lake+david+l+harrison&ref=nb_sb_noss The book is illustrated by Sladjana Vasic. The foreword was written by Sylvia Vardell and Janet Wong. GOOSE LAKE is priced at $1.99.
A NEW DAY
Some mornings know how to get it right. Across the lake treetops blush scarlet at the new dawn. Light strips black bedclothes and the new day rushes in fresh and barelegged.
A dove in a maple sings, “Who are you? Who? Who? Who?” A sparrow snatching a nervous breakfast at our feeder chirps with its mouth full. A robin captures a walnut tree and brags loudly of its conquest. Down-lake a sapsucker picks up drilling where it left off yesterday.
Hackberry trees, their new leaves curled in pale green rolls, look like they’re getting ready for a spring prom. The last dawdling skunk plods off toward the woods to sleep off the night’s foraging. Goose Lake, first thing in the morning, is at its best.
Face smooth from sleep
the lake awakens,
dabs on rouge –
a gift of the rising sun –
and opens for business.
Two ducks rippling
across the surface
begin to write the day.
(c) 2011 David L. Harrison, all rights reserved
Published GOOSE LAKE, A YEAR IN THE LIFE OF A LAKE, 2011
I love good art when I find it.
This is an accretion of last fall’s leaves, this spring’s Bradford pear petals from a neighbor’s yard, and tree pollen from a gusty day — mixed in a rich gumbo and served on the cover of our pool. Yum yum.
P.S. I have been requested to write a poem inspired by this picture, so here goes.
Rain water, let it set,
Hackberry leaves, wet,
Tree pollen, add to taste,
Rotting blossoms, yard waste,
Eggs of something yet unhatched,
Drowned beetles, wind dispatched,
If you have enough to spare,
Drop in spiders here and there,
Season liberally with germs,
Caterpillars, dead worms.
A masterpiece fit to sigh for,
Though truthfully, a stew to die for.
© 2019 David L. Harrison, all rights bottled and reserved
Sandy keeps four orchid plants in the kitchen window on the lake side. On Saturdays she feeds them three ice cubes. Our reward comes every few months, and once in a while, like this time, all four plants bloom at once.