Darkness descends on all who dwell here. Silhouettes emerge from granite pedestals set on fluid plains, but one stands out as a visitor to this primal land. Light ignites in feathery plumage dividing a placid sky. Ribbons curl on Eastern breezes, scattering celestial diamonds for all to see. Protect this place. Embrace its warmth and special gifts. Let its soul burn within you like Algonquin embers.
Back to the Artwork pageDarkness descends on all who dwell here. Silhouettes emerge from granite pedestals set on fluid plains, but one stands out as a visitor to this primal land. Light ignites in feathery plumage dividing a placid sky. Ribbons curl on Eastern breezes, scattering celestial diamonds for all to see. Protect this place. Embrace its warmth and special gifts. Let its soul burn within you like Algonquin embers.
Look below the surface and discover a world unknown to those who pass by in haste. Skimming over life’s tapestry rewards few, but searching and opening oneself to self-discovery and endless possibilities enrich the souls of those who dare to challenge expected norms. Seek what moves below still waters, and discover the networks and catacombs that past generations have entrusted to us. Protect the creatures who inhabit these dark and mysterious pools from those who see them only as wastelands to be drained for profit. Truly open your senses to the secrets of the wetlands.
Look closely through the morning mist, for a presence looms over this unspoiled land. Gentle movements betray this majestic giant as he steps with nonchalant intentions. The shroud grows thicker, and visions fade with the realization that you have witnessed a silent spirit.
I hear the world differently than you. Visual cues present themselves, and guide me in ways unknown to most. I hear rustling leaves through oscillating shimmer, as they dance to an East wind’s command. The splash of a Northern Pike delights me, as ripples radiate then fade to still waters. A loon’s crimson eyes rise and fall in royal splendour, as its lonely call brushes my soul. Night falls as ashen shadows and azure skies cloak reflective silence. All who bear witness unite in my world. I am not alone in the presence of the night birch.
The sky is painted with crimson brush strokes, as the winds of haste fade to calm. Take pause from tasks that hinder your soul, and reflect on your growth and achievements. Know you have made a difference in the world in quiet and subtle ways. In ways that are hidden in the warm mist far from turmoil of the surface waves. Be still and absorb the rejuvenating spirit of sunset breezes.
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