A Day in Maine

It is 12:30 Pm, temperature 69 degrees, sky cloudy, cooling breeze, and 5 goldfinches at the feeders.

Except for the songs of the birds and a very low rustling sound of the birch trees all is still, silent almost; yet alive with movement as the lake flows westward under a sunless sky and the pine trees stand tall reaching for the heavens.

The soft movement of the birch trees creates a gentle song; a slow dance, as the wind changes the branches from slow to stop, and back to again to slow.

A nuthatch has arrived and like the chickadees, takes one seed and flies to the trees to eat the morsel of sunflower seeds; and the goldfinches stay creating the color for this grey but pleasant day.

A moment of sunshine has passed only a moment, then greyness again.

The burning bush is showing signs of fall with touches of low level red, hardly a trace color yet but reminding me how quickly the seasons can change.

Now at 1:30Pm the breeze has picked up and the branches of the pine trees move with the branches of the birch trees as they play a louder melody, peaceful and soft, an octave above silence.

In the grey silence a blue kayak moves swiftly across the lake powered by the strong arms of a young neighbor, quickly gone from view before I lift my pen again.

Two chipmunks scurry back and forth across the grass until one finds refuge at the top of the cold fireplace. It sits silently staring at me as I stare at it, and then it is gone again to chase its companion.

The air is colder now as the temperature is 67 degrees, and the trees move quickly to a sound well above a whisper. A new song of horns and drums as the grey sky turns darker.

It is 3:30 Pm and the goldfinches are at the feeders.

July 24, 2024