Fall at Klineline Pond

At the Pond

One summer

I went every morning

to the edge of a pond where

a huddle of just-hatched geese

would paddle to me

and clamber

up the marshy slope

and over my body,

peeping and staring-

such sweetness every day

which the grown ones watched,

for whatever reason,

serenely.

Not there, however, but here

is where the story begins.

Nature has many mysteries,

some of them severe.

Five of the young geese grew

heavy of chest and

bold of wing

while the sixth waited and waited

in its gauze-feathers, its body

that would not grow.

And then it was fall.

And this is what I think

everything is all about:

the way

I was glad

for those five and two

that flew away,

and the way I hold in my heart the wingless one

that had to stay.

- Mary Oliver

I love the poetry of Mary Oliver and have spent many a cold night snuggled under a down comforter with a warm cup of tea and one of her many books, savoring words that touch both heart and soul. The poem above is one of my many favorites of hers. A few years ago, a group of friends and I spent the 90 days of winter writing a poem or paragraph of prose daily. Sometimes my fingers flew across the paper as my mind gave forth freely to writing about what I love most, nature and life intwined. Sometimes the best I could do was a few words as my mind froze with the need to write each day subverted by a stronger urge to procrastinate. But the challenge gave me no room to put off a daily time for creativity which all of us need to grow as artists. So I have decided to challenge myself again, come this winter solstice, but this time include a bit of photography to illustrate my writing. We're forecast to have a cold and icy winter...perfect weather for introspection and prose. Come join me if you dare...