At The Pond

This fall continues to amaze. Another day of golden light and while there is less color left in the trees, the colour  has dropped to the ground creating a wonderfully jewel toned carpet. The water lily leaves are changing their colors, tiny bugs have carved their marks on the leaves, pine needles create endless patterns on the surface of the water and I yesterday I re-read a wonderfully pithy poem of Mary Oliver's about going down to the shore, I'll just substitute pond for shore.

I GO DOWN TO THE SHORE

I go down to the shore in the morning
and depending on the hour the waves
are rolling in or moving out,
and I say, oh, I am miserable,
what shall—
what should I do? And the sea says
in its lovely voice:
Excuse me, I have work to do.

From A Thousand Mornings, Mary Oliver’s new collection. All rights reserved.