The evening was amazing, the clouds were low and the sun came through at a low angle in the sky. The colors of evening begin to change at this time of the year. Already the tops of trees display a red and rust color. The first blush is never a reminder that I like to get. At this time of the year I only wish for summer to never end.
Come a few weeks and i will be glad to feel the chill. I am committed however to spending as much time as I can in the water. The glacial pond turns into a cauldron of ulnaturally warm water. I worry that it is too warm. It needs a hint of crispness to stay healthy pond.
Another August in Charlestown and I feel kissed by the sun. There is much to do around this house and I am not much of a “honey-dew” kind of guy. Nonetheless I awake here in the mornings and I am never disappointed. Today I named it Lake Placid. The water was a mirror reflecting the sky. Each appeared a steal-blue with an eerie stillness that was at once, calming and chilling. Last night the moon was full and I waited until it was shinning directly onto the lake. It was just a pretty sight. The lake appeared white and patches of light edged through the pine trees, and illuminates the gardens here and there.
The waters at Sanctuary Road have had a healing effect on some people. It is still relatively easy to live with nature around here. The cottage is located between the Audubon Society and the Burlingame State Park. Burlingame is a preserve in Charlestown with camping and trails and these wonderfully refreshing waters.
On a quiet day the canoe glides over the ripples. There is a cove that is quiet and nearby. I like to bring a book there and read for a while thinking that the Transcendentalist of New England occupied land very much like this a few hundred years ago. I identify with the near mysticism that happens when we see ourselves as nature, not above it.
I like the sensation that comes from knowing I am at the furthest end point of my evolution to this moment in time. I am arrived at the edge of my eternity and I have looked over the edge and calculated that it is not a bad ending.
There has been much good fortune in the consciousness that accompanies me on this short but illustrative journey that we call life. The force is all around us. It creeps in through roots that shoot stalks of milk-weed to compete with mint and cosmos. We are waiting for the butterflies to find the garden on their way from Canada back to Mexico. We have not seen them yet.
We are one nation with Nature. And if we fight for anything we must fight to keep as much as the planet as pristine as we can. It is the royal road to health knowing the balance that happens when we need not get ahead of ourselves.
The monarch butterfly established the original trans-american trade agreement among wild-flowers, and pine trees, and oaks that have tall crowns way above the shade they cast.
It is August and the moon is waning into September. So am I.