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Ice fishing

Near the bottom of winter, dawn comes late and low.

But where the sun’s elevation daily increases, open water wanes inconstant:

Some waterfowl, like the mute swans that now overwinter here, favor the pond so long as there beckons even a wing’s-breadth of open water, retreating to the rarely glassed-in river only when no lacustrine option remains.

–Though they still seem to prefer resting afoot over afloat, even adrift on a thinning island, perhaps to reduce heat loss or avoid attack from beneath. Others depart or pass over the 88-acre rink, like these geese headed toward Phoenix:

The life of a persistent (or over-optimistic, or flight-lame) wader with narrowed grazing options may be solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short, and with fisher, weasel and hawk just as hungry, potentially beset with fear and danger of violent death withal.

Good hunting then, tall walker, and may you evade the pursuits of others.

 

 

Solstice suspiration

 

 
 
 
 
Hyla versicolor

…in manus tuas…

 
 
 

 

Tranquil
in day that defines
at home with growth and form

 

 
Weightless
in night that re-knits
sojourning silent mists and stars

 

 
 
Hyla versicolor

darkness scintillant

So
as ground shifts and seasons slide

may you with ease
find sense and sound footing where little appears
inspire in moist color to commune with deeper flows
dance delighted with moving spirits of other spheres
tease the onefold from artificed complexities
know open hand, comforting eye, place of natural belonging
hold and be held by all-that-is

Now
forever
until all awaken!

With best wishes and cautious hopes for a new year and a new reality…