Sunlight shimmers on October waters, as geese contemplate their southern journey accompanied by the inexperience of youthful enthusiasm. A forest stands as a testament to perseverance and survival, as it marks another season of lunar cycles, and the changes inherent in nature’s palette. Emeralds yield to the fire like splendour of warmth, as we witness the spectacle of the approaching autumn.
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Sunlight shimmers on October waters, as geese contemplate their southern journey accompanied by the inexperience of youthful enthusiasm. A forest stands as a testament to perseverance and survival, as it marks another season of lunar cycles, and the changes inherent in nature’s palette. Emeralds yield to the fire like splendour of warmth, as we witness the spectacle of the approaching autumn.
Dusk descends on all who dwell on this magical island. The fragile birch absorbs the fleeting warmth of sunlit days gone by. The lunar orb is illuminated by reflective light which guide nocturnal creatures to unknown shadows. Relax, reflect, and renew in the calming spirit of the Manitoulin moonlight.
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.
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.
As the Atlantic surf meets the Newfoundland shore, as the Muskoka pines meet on Fiddlehead Mountain, as the sun begins to set, wherever we are, we know it must be An Hour By Sun.