Between Me and Mt. K -Above and Below
Copyright 2023 by Lori-Ann Willey
On this warm late summer early morning, the world seemed to
hold its breath as the clock struck 3 am. The air split around my body and
passed me by as a gentle breeze that carried the sense that not only was Mother
Nature in slumber mode, but she promised peace and harmony. Above, the velvet-like
sky reminded me of a black canvas -stretched just enough after it was painted so it revealed the little
cotton divots exposed where paint couldn’t reach, each further enhanced -like diamonds against the
black paint giving subtle hints of deep blue that had been tainted with a bit
of green. White were the speckles -Mother Nature’s chosen color for the
diamond-like stars -shimmering, blinking, and all seemingly the same, yet as different
as you and I. If one does not look, one
does not see the changes minute by minute, night by night. Crisp or faint, each has a light of its own
and a story of their own. Their light already
traveled years before touching my eyes, telling me a story without words -their
version of charades.
Beneath the shimmering stars was a nearly stilled lake. At first, reflecting like a mirror doubling my
nighttime view. From a dew-dampened deck, step after step, my bare feet gently
stepped and felt each cooled, dampened board to the dock. Down there, I had but a few seconds to watch
the stars dance from both above and below before a light breeze picked up enough
to erase them from the water’s surface. Until
then, only the silhouette of the lake-lined trees and majestic Mt. K divided star-filled
sky above from the water below. With the
increased air movement, several loons sent out locator calls -such beautiful
sounds to hear, ‘where are you?’, ‘I am here’. Darkness and limited colors or not, I was surrounded
by beauty both seen and unseen, and this sappy heart felt it all. Appreciated it all.
After playing with a few settings so my camera could capture
the view, I laid upon the damp dock boards and watched the sky. I saw no shooting stars to wish upon -do kids
still do that? Even though my body sucked
up the moisture and cold alike, I, in turn gave up body heat and after a while,
I became a bit chilled. Moisture from the deck boards, or not, I propped upon
my side, settling my head upon my arm and continued gazing upward at the dark
silhouette of Mt. K (Katahdin). In my mind’s eye, through the darkness, I could
see its jagged edges cut by glaciers of long ago, a distinctive and longtime
figure against the night sky. I thought about
ancient Pamola tales, my Kinap story, and all those years of the stars that
watched over this land from the beginning of time -Mt. K’s original guardian. Then,
I thought about a painting I did once, a “black hole” opens above as if a cover
to a jar, and an alien peers its eyes through to observe a captured world. I had to smirk, because I always like a play
on aliens of the stereotypical type as seen in our camp icons in the past. Fun stuff.
All in good fun and wacky, or maybe distorted sense of humor, even if I’m
the only one amused.
While my camera captured the view, I realized
something. The camera and I have
something in common. We are both
observers and participants as we watch the universe and travel through time. Though daylight approaches at a constant and
stable speed, it often “stops” so I can become lost in the beauty of it all,
while my camera captures 10 brief moments in a single photo as if time stopped briefly
for an exclusive pose. Thankful, I am
that I live in a time when such things are capturable in one way or another.
This includes my heart when it comes to nature.
Though still surrounded by darkness, and as the stars slowly
faded away for the day, I was reminded of the song titled, IF. Like most songs, I changed the words a bit to
better suit the moment, 'Then one by one the stars will all go out". More than 45 minutes
had passed and as Daylight approached, she brought more wind, and chillier
temperatures. I had been outside laying
on those dew-dampened boards long enough.
It was time for coffee.
