Bubbles in the Mist

I awoke convinced that I had slept in & dawn's first light was already aglow. It was however, the harvest moon shrouded in fog. Do you remember "Moment of Glory" on March 20th? The sun's first rays lit up every droplet of water in the forest air. Early this morning, before the world of man was awake, the harvest moon shone brightly, amplified in it's radiance by the moisture in the air. I sat listening to the sounds of the forest. The insects had not yet begun their song & all was quiet. An owl hooted now & again, from various place. From the forest floor & aloft in the trees, I heard the occasional rustle of leaves & snapping of twigs. I wondered who was working or hunting. Beaver or fox? Raccoon or opossum? Perhaps the coyote had made his way down, or the deer were back. I heard a small tree or branch crack & fall from far off near the beaver's burrow.
When the moon was fully engulfed by the cloud, I brought out a ceramic tray of candles & wrote in my journal. The night was so silent that I could hear the sounds of an animal scratching himself. I heard nibbles upon ripened walnuts & periodic thuds as the nuts crashed to the ground. From far across the lake, I heard the rooster's call. Coming from the same place, it is a new voice this year, though I always hear one during the colder months of the year. The insect chorus began their predawn praise & when dawn's light finally began to turn the sky a faint blue, I headed to the lake.


Once on the dock, I sat patiently, watching as leaves & all manner of things slowly drifted past me into the cove. The mallards flew through piercing the silence with their chatter & rush of wings. A slight breeze caught water droplets releasing them from the foliage. The water tensions was such that the droplets momentarily held as large bubbles before bursting into widening ripples. I stalked the bubbles for ages, peering through the lens & praying to get some balanced shots of them poised atop the water. As I waited, I listened to the calls of the heron, the kingfisher & various woodpeckers. The mallards passed through again, before heading upstream. Upon later investigation, I found evidence that the beaver had, in fact been hard at work, shoring up his home for his winter rest.