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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.
Gather round in wispy swirls, and flickers of primal light. Become mesmorized by the dance and the twinkle of flame and sparkling ember. Release all wordly concerns that challenge your grasp on this peaceful place, and allow the voices to breathe from the very essence of the Granite and towering Pines. Know you are a steward of this land, as those who hasve shared its gifts before you. Worship the peace in the swirls, and the warmth of the night fire.
Cool winds blow across an unforgiving landscape, as Winter’s grip tightens around its lone inhabitant. Moonlight reminds us that strength comes from the light. The light of the Northern Pine.
The majestic pine stands firmly anchored to its Precambrian perch as a witness to another glorious day. Backgrounds have been painted with both calm and aggressive strokes, in darkness and misty obscurity. Scattered ribbons of pastel hues dance in primal rhythms, and slowly make way to twilight pinpoints of shimmering light. Warm winds turn cool, as the season changes to one less forgiving. The pine stands witness to all that is true. All that is the northern sky.
Cooling air breathes life into all who rest by her shores. Waves ripples and crest in a primordial rhythm that sculpts red sands into serpentine sketches.
The mist settles on Mew Lake, as the early morning light filters through distant pines in diamond shimmer.
Another peaceful dawn breaks on a pristine Algonquin lake, as it has for centuries before. The morning mist begins to dissipate, and unveils a majestic pine that has been a constant witness to the life changes surrounding. Beauty will continue to be revealed, out of the mist.
Fragile birches introduce the cool waters of Oxtongue Lake, situated just west of Algonquin Park. The whiteness of the bark contrasts with the blaze of fall colours on the distant shore, to create a sense of autumn freshness in preparation for the bleak winter months ahead.
Newfoundland shores welcome us, as abandoned structures echo voices of former prosperity.
Thoughts recede to a time when introductions to this landscape flirted with infancy, and young eyes were filled with wonder.