Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Strawberry Island


Impel, Masterful, Fringe, Beyond, Red

The island rose from the lake with a fringed pine skirt at the water. The greens against each other contrasted and had I been using paint, I wouldn’t have put the colors together. However, nature matches masterfully so I can’t deny that they belong together. The lapping water rose and subsided with nature’s breath. She inhaled, it resided. Back and forth with small shallow breaths. Then a long deep sigh, and the water fell an inch beyond the usual waterline. There was no breeze, but the water movement made me chill slightly like a woman’s sigh on my neck might do. I sat, still, with my legs doubled to my chest, not wanting to disturb anything around me and I wondered if this is like hunting. Sitting, waiting, not moving and hoping an animal would walk up to were a hunter randomly sat in the faded red oak brush.

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