Climbing mountains you get high enough you can see above the cloud deck, the tips of the other peaks coming through, how the clouds look like soup from above, and in every direction just the land stretching out, no cities—like being on an airplane at cruising altitude, when everyone settles in.
The clouds were like that at the lake this morning, fanned out on a cutting board, the tree tops figurines from some child’s diorama, a group of ducks going under, coming up: an eagle on a high branch behind me I watched for a time from afar, sharpening its beak on the wood, picking for bugs.
And I crept up beneath it to listen to the sound it made but it stopped and sensed me, it tried to see me through the branches but couldn’t, it moved length by length down the end of the limb and bobbed there and I thought I should leave before I startled it but it left first: I watched it sail above the lake to the other side where it disappeared, and thought I should do the same.
Image from Wiki commons, Caspar David Friedrich, ‘Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog.’
Categories: prose
all life is fluid, and fading in and out. just like us –
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Even with the living it’s fluid,
right? Is for me anyway!
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Absolutely
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Reminds me of the way John Muir writes about being in the mountains. Bordering on religious, which I’m all for, where capital-N Nature is concerned. Sign me up!
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Cool, reminded me a touch of your post too. Think I’m going back tree about now for some more inspiration, never disappoints. Anyone reading this needs to go read your post from today, that was beautiful. Bill
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Lovely, lovely, lovely!
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And a triple thanks back to you dear friend! Bill
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🙂 🙂 🙂
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Triple like that, just sayin’.
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It takes practice to learn to appreciate it all on a daily basis. Playing hide and go seek with the lake and fog. Nice.
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Ha, thank you, you’re right. Good the practice is fun, that’s the only way: “the play’s the thing.” Thanks for reading and commenting my friend. Bill
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Love these descriptions – ducking away from the eagle, looking out over the clouds, the treetops like playthings. Very visual writing, Bill – lovely. Love that painting too – studied Friedrich briefly during my degree. Fits wonderfully with your descriptions
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I’ve reused that painting a few times now, and happy you liked that little scene. It was a nice one, thanks for being there too, ducking in and out if the trees, ha!! Bill
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Lovely stuff all round. Loving those trees, hearing the birds scritch and call. King of the Mountain
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