The Guelder Rose is green now in the final month of summer. The wind has swept up the blossoms and scattered them away like delicate flakes of summer snow. There beneath the Guelder’s green boughs, a small form lays quiet and still. Sodden and dark from the morning rain, the first hint of colour is muddied on the breast. The head reclines, one eye hidden, the other open to the sky. The gelid orb has frosted over a pale imitation of a ripening blueberry and a sudden glint of movement creates a startling illusion of life. Closer inspection reveals an ant making its way along the edge of the convex curve of that soft jewel.


The wind rustles the trees mimicking the patter of rain as the leaves brush against each other in the dark. The moonlight spreads across the night sky rippling the dark like sunlight on water. It leaks through the depths to find the hidden world below. The clouds are islands floating free overhead, the bottoms dark and the tops awash in platinum halos.

The rain and the insects have done their work, emptying out the fallen. The blueberry frost has been replaced by the vacuum of a blank socket stark against the white of bone. The delicate spine articulates a gentle curve of ivory jewels cradled in the soft bower of discarded feathers.


The terns glide across the surface and then hang over the water watching the waves below. Hurtling down they disappear beneath the green and then rise up, orange beaks full of flashing opalescent scales. A rust and green length of dead carp kisses the shore. The round hollow above the gill fills with the wash and weeps Erie’s tears as clasped in her bosom it gently rocks to an eternal sleep. Scatterings of diamond fossils, frozen in stone, line the path between here and there.


The waves hurry on towards the shore, cresting above the plane animating the grey expanse. Breaking on the rim, they breathe, expand and begin anew. Sinking into the sand, flowing back into the rhythm, forward under the cliff side and up into the air they change yet remain the same.

14 thoughts on “Symphony

  1. so busy. Mother Earth is so beautifully busy. 🙂
    and i think being baptised in the Catholic and United Church leaves you swimming around in purgatory, poor poor purgatorying lorna. *sigh*


  2. Don\’t worry Lorna… purgatory doesn\’t exist as it\’s taught in the Catholic Church… that teaching is a tool used by the clergy to control it\’s congregations with fear. A loving God would not put anyone in "Limbo" or purgatory to suffer and be in pain… we deal with enough suffering and pain on this earth.

    I wanted to say though, apart from the first comment, that this piece is very beautiful. I love the way you describe the waves as "breathing" and "flowing"… I so love water, and the soothing sound of it, be it in whatever form… rain, brook, stream, river, lake, ocean… whatever… to me there is nothing more soothing and peaceful. (Except maybe me putting my head in my mama\’s lap while she brushes my hair and smoothes it from my face… yeah, that\’s the only thing that can even compare.)


  3. The last Paragraph about waves was amazing. I live 3 minutes walk from a Beach and I go there everyday. I sit sometimes and watch the waves just rolling in, back and forth in rhythm on the sand. You\’ve captured it beautifully 🙂


    That Patresa is going RIGHT TO HELL! Isn\’t she?!? ; )
    Ahhhhhhh. It\’s good to have you back, if only briefly.
    How\’s things?


  5. Hey, before departing for hell I thought I would drop in and say hi. Everyone goes to hell after we die , I thought everyone knew that . The really nice people get the shitty tasks though….


  6. I, for one, am elated to see you here again, too, especially because I need to contemplate "delicate flakes of summer snow" while I\’m being too cheap to turn up the a/c (beautiful writing, as always).


  7. Looking forward to your next piece… hope all is well with you and yours.  I\’ll keep coming back to see what\’s new.


  8. @Patresa
    Purgatory eh? Well I\’ll be damned or sort of damned or not really damned or…hmmm…lol
    I love the water as well. It makes me feel like I\’m flying, weightless.
    I\’m sorry I haven\’t been around a lot lately but quite frankly I\’m having a lot of trouble accessing my space and life has been "trying". I\’ve also been doing a lot of reading lately, some of it religious in nature and I don\’t know what I think about purgatory and such. I had started reading about religion so that I might find some answers. Unfortunately the more I read the less I feel I know. ^;*^
    I live about 5 minutes from the lake and I love to go all the time. I haven\’t been this week though as there was a drowning and they\’ve yet to find all the bodies. I\’d like NOT to be the one who finds anything like that. Sometimes at night when it\’s very windy the sound of the surf rises up and sings with the wind…it\’s beautiful and so strong.
    @Parishioner Pirate Pomegranate
    A fine Christian like you Kay… damning Patresa to hell tsk-tsk lol! I\’m okay … some things have gotten a little better since the email I sent you and some things have remained the same so to quote Doris Day (I love old movies =))Que cera cera… 
    This is the first time I\’ve been able to get my space to load in without the comment "Done with errors on the page" so I\’m hoping to actually update sometime soon… if possible. How was the vacation? ;D
    Ah Toad always the optimist…what kind of tasks will be assigned to you in the perpetual darkness of your post death hell? ;P
    Too cheap to turn up the air conditioning?…Why don\’t you come visit me. We have no air conditioning and my feet are so cold right now I have two pairs of socks on!!!
    Great to see you stop by Cheryl. I\’ve been trying to access your site but so far no luck! I hope every is okay down there with you and yours.


  9. @Katsoup
    Calming…well that\’s good to know. We can\’t have a bunch of riled up bloggers out there. lol
    I\’m sure we\’ll all get what we deserve. Lord help us all! ;P
    In some ways yes but in other more important ways probably not. =)


  10. Beautiful writing. The details and imagery transport me into the scene. I almost want to close my eyes and listen… but that would make it harder to read the rest, now, wouldn\’t it?


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