To come back like autumn to the moss on the stones
after many seasons to recur as a face
backlit on the surface of a dark pool one day
after the year has turned from the summer it saw
while the first yellow leaves stare from their forgetting
and the branches grow spare
is to waken backward down through the still water
knowing without touching all that was ever there and has been forgotten
and recognize without name or understanding
without believing or holding or direction
in the way that we see
at each moment
the air
The full moon was last night but I was able to get a couple of photos of the still fat moon rising over the mountain at about 9 p.m.
These two photos, above and below, taken within seconds of each other, the photo below on zoom.
These photos look just like the ones I took last fall! but, still, I am mesmerized...
I came home from a long day and spotted our old friend, Blue Heron, on our floating dock. Even though I was happy to see him, he apparently, was not happy to see me. I was able to snap only one photo before he took off, and when he did, I realized the sound of his wing beats are now something I recognize by sound, even though I lost sight of his dark form against the dark hills as soon as he took off. I walked out onto the end of the dock to take more sunset photos and noticed fish jumping all over the around the dock, where it is still pretty shallow, and this must be why he has chosen our dock for his hunt at dusk.
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