Under the shadow of the pine, patience and stealth guide those who hunger. The fallen submerge at water’s edge, and guide a trio of new life towards the light. At branch’s tip, eyes scan for movement and opportunity, while morning breezes protect the unsuspecting under rippled waters. Human influence adds only shades of indigo, and disrupts nothing in this microcosm bathed in emerald and blues.
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Under the shadow of the pine, patience and stealth guide those who hunger. The fallen submerge at water’s edge, and guide a trio of new life towards the light. At branch’s tip, eyes scan for movement and opportunity, while morning breezes protect the unsuspecting under rippled waters. Human influence adds only shades of indigo, and disrupts nothing in this microcosm bathed in emerald and blues.
Your clear waters calm my soul with every stroke of my paddle. My red canoe is drawn to islands where solitude and reflection have sustained me through formative years. A father’s love of nature flows through my veins like warm Summer breezes, and lessons learned are appreciated with every sunset’s glow. You are the catalyst that reunites long lost friends. You are Lac-du-Cerf.
Daylight fades over cool waters, as ripples change to glass.
Spring has come to Algonquin in reluctant strokes of fragile warmth. Cool waters ripple as icy coverings are released, and return slowly to fluid motion. Closing hours of daylight spawn Winter’s last flurry, and a chill returns to the now placid waters. Distant shores lose definition, and mystery returns in the Mew Lake mist.
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.