A grove of birch trees
By the shores of
An ice-covered lake
The stark white trunks
Emerging from the mist
On an early Spring morning
Reddish-brown leaves
From Fall past
Carpet the barren ground
Among the standing birch
No stirring of wildlife
Is to be seen
A place of peaceful stillness
A well beaten path
Meanders through the birch grove
Beckons a wayward traveller
To places that are beyond
Not a breath of wind
Is to be had
The sky all red and orange
The dawn of a new day
Is upon the land
The Four Sisters eroded descendants
Of peaks once young in height
With quartz cliffs that gleam
Like snow from a far
A craggy imposing landscape
That others have passed
Many thousand of years before
Covered with jack pine ridges
Descending oak,maple and pine
Cover the mountain side
In the bowels of the mountains
Sapphire lakes gleam in the morning light
Mirroring the surrounding landscape
On their glass like surface
Sloping red granite offset
The stark white quartz
Upon a windswept ridge
A twisted pine braves the elements
Having landed there as a seed
Growing up as best as it can
Now part of the landscape
Bit by bit the Four sisters
Are revealed as rounded humps
Against the glowering sky
Revealing their everlasting beauty
To paddlers and hikers now passing by
Being among the La Cloche Mountain system is a very inspirational experience for anyone who has been there.There is much beauty to be found as one canoes or hikes this mountain system in Killarney Provincial Park
The above scene is a series of photos put together to create the composition.I photographed the panoramic at O S A Lake in Killarney Provincial Park last Fall.At one point the mist was lifting and the sky was a gorgeous Orange and Red for a few minutes.In this particular section of the La Cloche Mountains their are four rounded humps visible on the South side of O S A Lake.The name Four Sisters is my own doing.
Showy cup like flowers
Begin to open
In the mid-morning warmth
Like stars from heaven
Floating gently among lily pads
A white-tailed doe
Knee deep in the water
Lifts her elegant head
Lily pads dangle
From her dripping muzzle
Ever alert to signs of danger
Dark colored nymphs
Cling to the pond vegetation
Waiting as their wings emerge
To dry in the sun
Before flying over the pond
As an adult dragonfly
An Eastern King-bird waiting on a perch
Darts over the water
Catching an unsuspecting dragonfly
Perched high in a cattail
Belts out his conk-la-ree song
He displays his shoulder patch
Of scarlet and yellow
For all to see
His streaky brown mate
Skulks through the undergrowth
In search of food
A blue heron standing motionless
In search of prey
An unsuspecting frog breaks the surface
With a blur of motion
The heron grabs its prey
With a lift of wings
The blue heron is airborne
To feed its young
The sun is waning
The shadows are long
The white lilies are closing
To signal the end of a day
In and around a beaver pond is full of life.It is so enjoyable to sit and watch the activity happening around you.
Here is a blog by a young lady that I have gotten to know on Fine Arts of America.
http://runoverandrightat.blogspot.com/
Do check it out.Very nicely done and a very talented lady
Well that is it for this week.Thank you for your wonderful comments and until next week happy trails.
The sun is low on the horizon
A campsite beckons not far off
Upon arrival I am upset
For among the tall grass
Garbage is scattered every where
The sign of wayward campers
I unload my gear
Setting up a campsite
Before the night approaches
I rest upon a rock
By the river’s edge
Enjoying the quiet and peace
That is to be had
Along the flowing river
Marveling at the reflective colors
Of green,gold and blue
Upon the river’s surface
The evening light is waning
I retire for the night
The night is now
Full of noises
From the rustle of night creatures
In the nearby woods
To the haunting call of
A great Horned Owl
That is answered further downriver
As I lay abed
Falling asleep under the canopy of stars
The shadows are retreating
From the morning sunlight
The last remnants of mist
Has now disappeared
The pond now awaking
Bathed in a warm glow
Along the water’s edge
Pitcher plants,purple and maroon
With cup shape flowers
Nodding on their stocks
Awaiting an unwary insect
A beaver with a trailing wake
Is homeward bound
After a night of labour
Painted turtles with glistening shells
Emerge from the pond’s depth
To clamber upon a mossy log
Half sunken at the water’s edge
To bask in the warmth
of the mid morning sun
An elegent Wood duck hen
With bobbing head
Her brood in tow
Merges into the vegetation
To hide and forage
Unk-a-chunk,unk-a-chunk
The call of the American Bittern
From the far end
Of the beaver pond
We are blessed with a great deal of water in Northern Ontario.One is which is the beaver pond.My poem only covers a small fraction of what happens in and around these ponds.The beaver pond is home to a large variety of life.Plant life,aquatic life and wildlife are all sustained by a beaver pond.Spending time in and around the beaver pond is an awarding experience.Go to this web address and you will hear a recording of an American Bittern.
http://www.xeno-canto.org/sounds/uploaded/BCWZQTGMSO/bird009.mp3
The above photo was taken at Wagon Road Lake in Killarney Provincial Park.With a beaver dam at one end and very swamp like at the far end I would almost classify this body of water as a very large beaver pond.It is a pretty place to be and an easy hike to get to this body of water.I loved the lighting effect that morning and I stitched a number of photos together to create this scene.
Well that is it for this week.Thank you all for your comments.So until next time happy trails.
As I travel onward
Boulders line the river’s edge
Nimble of foot I step
From boulder to boulder
Careful not to slip
The river now passes
Around and over many
A well-worn rock
The sun is at its zenith
The air is warm
A shaded rock beckons
For a traveller to rest
I ease my self down
My back against the smooth rock
My eyes close slowly
The sound of running water
Music to my ear
The soft rustling of leaves
above my sagging head
As a gentle breeze
Caresses the surrounding trees
I sense something near
Upon opening my eyes
A timber wolf ambling along
Head down to the rocks
On the far shore
Suddenly it stops,looks at me
With a sense of curiousity
We look eye to eye
As quickly as it came
Like a ghost it merges
Back into the wilderness
From where it came
An encounter not often seen
It is now time to move on
To follow the river’s edge.
Thank you everyone for your comments.
This is a great way to pass the winter writing poems about my wilderness adventures.I am having fun and I hope all you folks are too.So until next time happy trails.
The Warmth of the sun
On my back as I follow
The course of the river
The river is now narrowing
As it makes its way
Between a grove of Birch
Their trunks a splash of white
In the Boreal forest
Ahead of me a bend appears
An abandoned Beaver house
Comes into view before me
Now home to an Otter family
An Otter sitting on a log
Cleansing its glistening fur
Hissing as I approach
Passing quietly around the Otters
I continue travelling the river’s edge
It is now mid morning
The shadows are lessening
Before me a sandbar protrudes into the river
Golden in the sunlight
As I approach the sandbar
Tracks are spotted in the sand
Made by a lone wolf
On its nightly foraging
This is a continuation of my journey along a typical Northern Ontario River.I have spent many years travelling such rivers.Whether fishing or photographing.It is always a great adventure to enjoy.The poem River’s Edge is an accumulation of all my experiences on these trips. Everything that I write whether wildlife or scene I have seen it.
That is it for this week so happy trails
As I walk along the river’s edge
In the early morning light
Spider webs glistening silver
Among the shoreline shrubs
The day’s first sunlight
Flickering through the leaves
Producing a dappled pattern on the forest floor
A small stream of pristine water
Merges into the ever-moving river
Stately Pines and towering Spruce
Stand guard at the water’s edge
The clear cold water
Is home to the colorful Brook Trout
Rising to the surface
In the deeper pools
Feeding on the emerging Mayflies
Here and there the undergrowth
Chokes the river banks
A dead tree layered
With fungi and moss
Lays in my path
Which I carefully step over
As I walk down the river
Ferns a bright green
With new Spring growth
Grow thick here and there
Along the river’s edge
A kingfisher all red,blue and white
Darts down the river
Vanishing into the shadows
One of my favourite pastimes is spending the day walking along a river.Enjoying the moment and looking to see what is around the next bend.
I hope everyone had a great New Years and I am looking forward to the new year.Thank you all for visiting and until next time happy trails
Ken Bennison's Photography 