Tag Archives: Poetry

Photography, Poetry

Out of The Mist

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Morning is slowly evolving

From the darkness of night

The wind is calm

A heavy mist is present

Over the ever flowing river

Islands and rocky points

Can barely be seen

The strains of song

Muted in the mist

Becoming louder and louder

With each passing moment

The dip of paddles

In rhythm with song

Can now be heard

The sudden parting of mist

Reveals the misty outline

Of an elegant Montreal canoe

Paddled by stalwart voyageurs

Singing to the rhythm

Of their glistening paddles

The mist suddenly closes

The sound of voices

Receding in the distance

Ghosts from times long past

The sun has crested

Chasing the far shadows

Sunlight pierces the mist

A refreshing breeze blows

Dissolving the morning mist

The river having revealed

Its ancient history

Leaving one spellbound

To have been part

Of that long ago past

The idea of this poem came to me when I spoke to a number of local people on the French River.They talked of almost hearing voices on the French River on certain days.With that in mind I created this poem.

The French River is steeped in history.This river was the main transportation route by the First Nation people,early explorers,Jesuit Missionaries,Voyageurs and much later the lumber men.
Well that is it for now.Thank you for comments.So until next time happy trails.

Photography, Poetry

I Am

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I am a White Pine

Perched high on a ridge

With a panorama view

Of the pristine waters

That flow below me

I am a prodigy

Of Mother Nature

I am old before my time

Stunted,bent and twisted

By the ravages of time

My roots like tentacles

Struggle to gain hold

On the rocky ledge

I am deprived of nutrients

In the shallow soil

I am a perch

For my feathered friends

A squirrel feeds on my seeds

But I am strong in spirit

With the will to survive

The above photo was taken at the Cranberry Bog in Killarney Provincial Park.The small pine tree attracted me along with the granite rocks.Using the grass and Lilly pads as a lead-in I created the above composition.

I would like to thank everyone for visiting and for those who have left a comment,thank you.So until next time happy trails.

 

 

 

Photography, Poetry

La Cloche Mountains

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Like strokes of a Painter’s brush

A swath of color here

A dash of color there

The mountains come alive

In the early morning light

The surface of the lake

Awash in reflective color

Of the surrounding hills

A touch of mist

On the far shoreline

Fallen leaves drifting aimlessly

Before the morning breeze

As the sun emerges

Over the eastern horizon

Splashing its golden glow

On the emerging mountains

From the shadows of night

A far rocky point is awash

With tentacles of sunlight

The sun now reaching

The depths of the shoreline

The trees alive with morning light

A small pine tree

Alone on a near point

Glowing from the sunlight

Like a warning beacon

To attract passing canoeists

Thus concludes a wonderful

Fall morning to be found

Amongst the La Cloche Mountains

The above photo captured what is a common site in the La Cloche Mountain Range on a beautiful Fall Morning.The mountains are awash in there colors of orange,red and yellow along with the various shades of green.It something to cherish when you can have this opportunity to enjoy this wilderness beauty.To breath in the cool crisp air and smell the surrounding forest in your nostrils.

The photo was taken at O S A Lake in Killarney Provincial Park.This beautiful lake is nestled amongst the La Cloche Mountains.Well that is it for this week.Thank you everyone for stopping by for a visit.Until next time happy trails.

Photography, Poetry

The Legacy of a Pine Tree

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A dry warm wind

Caresses the rocky shoreline

Of a far Northern lake

Upon the wind a seed

from an open pine cone

Is borne along

To settle among the boulders

Scattered along the water’s edge

In time a small pine tree

Protrudes from the shelter

Of the surrounding rocks

The years go by

The struggling pine tree

Is now stunted and gnarled

Bent to the onslaught of the wind

Its existence at the mercy

Of the ravages of Nature

Then one fateful day

On a stormy dark night

The gale force winds

Churning the surface of the lake

Toppled the struggling pine tree

To lie among the scattered rocks

Its existence no more

The photograph you see above is a creation of my own doing.The rocks were beautiful in form and texture.As I was walking the shoreline of OSA Lake in Killarney Provincial Park I came across the remains of a pine tree lying along the shoreline.I picked it up an set where I wanted it to be positioned.I then searched around for some pine cones to add in the foreground.I placed them on a patch of green grass.Thus I created a bit of a story line which the poem is a creation of.The pine tree comes from the seed out of a cone to its final resting place where ever it falls.

So I hope you have enjoyed this post.I also would like to thank everyone who came for a visit and I enjoy the comments very much.If you are ever out my way stop in for a coffee.Check my link to FAA for available prints for sale.So until next time happy trails.

Photography, Poetry

Birch Grove

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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

Photography, Poetry

Four Sisters

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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.

Photography, Poetry

River’s Edge Part 4

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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

Photography, Poetry

The Pond

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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.

Photography, Poetry

The River’s Edge Part 3

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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.

Photography, Poetry

The River’s Edge Part 2

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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