When the gray of the sky…
On the winter days when the sky and the bay are the same color, I’m happy to sit inside and spin, or knit or search the web for my current fancy…lately it’s been Maine poets as I try to find better ways to share with you the beauty and starkness of our winter coastline.
Because our campground was once fertile farm land dotted with apple trees, we still have the pleasure of deer wandering through in search of apple drops. We saw a beautiful pair the other morning (actually, it was Neeshee the goat who pointed them out.) You know how one thing leads to another, so if you’re inclined, read this and if you’d like to search a bit further…check out this wonderful poetry website. The photo was borrowed from Flikr…use this link to see more of Mainely Pic’s beautiful pictures.
How to See Deer by Philip Booth
Forget roadside crossings.
Go nowhere with guns.
Do you see?
Go elsewhere your own way,
lonely and wanting. Or
stay and be early:
next to deep woods
inhabit old orchards.
All clearings promise.
Sunrise is good,
and fog before sun.
Expect nothing always;
find your luck slowly.
Wait out the windfall.
Take your good time
to learn to read ferns;
make like a turtle:
downhill toward slow water.
Instructed by heron,
drink the pure silence.
Be compassed by wind.
If you quiver like aspen
trust your quick nature:
let your ear teach you
which way to listen.
You’ve come to assume
protective color; now
colors reform to
new shapes in your eye.
You’ve learned by now
to wait without waiting;
as if it were dusk
look into light falling:
in deep relief
things even out. Be
careless of nothing. See
what you see.