The docks are out, the lifts are up, & the boats are gone…
The jet skis are quiet, the shutters latched, & the sandbar silent.
Listen carefully… you’ll hear the sound of a sigh weaving through the wind.
It’s my sigh. These last few months were yours. I held you all while you splashed, zipped, & glided your way through my waves. I listened to your laughter & songs & engines.
But now it’s my turn. I’ll miss you these next months but I’ll gather the quiet of your absence around me. From the first touch of frost, even before, I anticipated this resting, this waiting, this patient renewal through the longer darkness. I feel the sun slipping along the horizon on it’s journey south, taking the light & stealing the warmth & know it’s my turn…to revitalize & cleanse the waters that flow through me. I’ll draw light from the skies & air above me, breathing to the ancient rhythms taught to me. Feeling the earth deep beneath me, I’ll connect to the others of my kind.
The waters around me flow in a dance, choreographed to replenish us. There are 14 of us who move together as we have through the millennium: Beals, Scotts, Six Mile, St. Clair, Ellsworth, Wilson, Benway, Hanley, Intermediate, Bellaire, Clam, Skegemog , Elk, & me. We are old, but made forever young in this unique place.
Before, there were few of your kind who knew us & we welcomed you. We shared our waters, our beauty, our fish & our abundance with you. We danced, with you being grateful & graceful partners.
We welcome you still but we have felt a change. There are more of you, so the dance becomes more frenzied. Some come to dance, but they don’t hear the music, some have lost their gracefulness & gratefulness. Some are careless & the dance is frenetic. We mourn the loss of this part of our beautiful partnership.
But for now, it’s our turn. The months ahead will restore us. We’ll welcome you again in spring. It’s our hope that you’ll spend this time in the same way, renewing, restoring & reflecting on your part in our next dance.
With Love from,