It's been a long and tiring day
though I will not complain
of watching nature's slow paced way
while nursing old knees' pain.
Before the day began to break
I slowly worked through tall dark pines
in dry air chill enough to ache
while avoiding tripping briers and vines.
Then I settled at a favorite stand
on a bluff beneath a large birch tree
overlooking wide riparian land.
I'm alone as anyone can be.
And there I watch the sun awake
setting the eastern sky ablaze
as if for my private sake
like so many other sylvan days.
It being the autumn time of year
my Remington sits lightly in my lap
in case, by chance, I see the deer
once seen here by mere mishap.
A beaver swims in the small stream
below the bluff this early morning
while far downstream as if a dream
a deer snorts out some urgent warning.
Wood ducks whistle as they streak,
doves mourn, perhaps for a lost love,
from their den tree some fox squirrels speak,
crows fly silently above.
Then the wind begins to blow
just enough to make a few leaves fall
to the deep duff down below
where newts sleep and beetles crawl.
Soon the silence of mid-day
as well as warmth of climbing sun,
plus a few clouds on their way.
Make drooping eyelids weigh a ton.
What must the critters all have thought
as I sat snoring in their home?
Was a mere nap all that I sought
as through the land of dreams I roamed?
At last a loud splash wakened me
in time to see but not to aim
at a buck as large as there could be
crossing the creek which has no name.
I smile, my heart begins to slow
back toward its more normal beat.
One more deer allowed to grow.
The disappointment's almost sweet.
How long have I been asleep?
The sun approaches the west ridge
as shadows stretch in their slow creep
on their way to evening's chill fridge.
Far off some loon laughs at my fate
as squirrels resume their acorn search.
A drake streaks by with his dun mate.
I groan and stretch beneath the birch.
A great horned owl begins to hoot
reminding me it's time to leave.
I rise and shake duff from my boot
as shafts of sun pierce tall trees' sieve.
I look around to take in all,
this retreat where I've spent my day.
Perhaps I'll come again next fall.
Perhaps I'll return here to stay.
