A Fall Day Unwrapped

There's something about this time of year. The air seems cleaner and the sounds more crisp. Views become vistas painted with the colours of autumn. I love the Fall! When it arrives, it's warm and sunny and dry and spectacular.

I spent a weekend at our cabin on the lake a few weeks ago. I woke early to stoke the fire and drive away the dampness that had settled in overnight. I cracked open the curtains and scanned the shoreline to see if I had any visitors. A blue heron was standing watch at his post in the marshes, grand and still among the bullrushes. He is somewhat of a permanent fixture here in my little slice of heaven. I expect him to be here when I come. He's my unknowing companion in the dawn. I could hear a loon though I could not see him behind the morning's mist; it sounded to me as if he was closer to the head of the lake. I remember feeling relieved to hear the distant call because his visits to our shore generally mean that we can expect to see rain.

I wrapped myself in a comforter, quietly opened the sliding door and took a seat on the deck to listen and watch and smell the day arriving. The mist was thick that day. It changed the way the morning sounded. The usual songs of birds and boats and late-season cottagers were smothered by the mantle of fog. I closed my eyes against the morning and listened to the water lapping at the shore just a few feet away. Silently I gave thanks for having this sacred place. It offers me serenity I have yet to find anywhere else.

The sun rose to my left and tugged at the mist with invisible fingers as though unwrapping an especially delicate gift. As the morning eased itself into the lake, the mist receded and unveiled its view to me. The trees on the shore made me think of artist's paintbrushes, waiting to meet the canvas with fiery strokes of red and yellow.



I snuggled deeper into my polyester cocoon and snapped pictures of the day awakening. I'm not sure why I thought I could capture that day with a camera. There are things in this world that must be experienced to be appreciated - a hug, friendship, a great book, daybreak.

As the last few tendrils of mist rose from the lake, I watched the blue heron pluck his breakfast from the yielding waters. In one swift and graceful moment, he broadened his wings and hoisted himself above the bullrushes. I stood and unfurled myself as my companion disappeared behind the treeline. Inhaling deeply, I caught the faint and airy scent of wood smoke as it fell to me from the chimney above.

I listened to hear the stirrings of children inside the cabin. Muffled giggles and shuffling footsteps told me that my day was about to intersect with theirs. I pulled my comforter across my chest like a too-big cape and gave silent thanks for another spectacular day in my own piece of heaven.