Richard L. Provencher

Island of Song

 

Across the stillness of water lays a stretching form, almost a creature poised to pounce. From the mainland it draws the attention of any visitor with its mysterious atmosphere. A small island peeks from the surface of Economy Lake, almost an explosion of rock lined with trees. Tall silhouettes create a border for a private space, a hidden sanctuary.

The island has character, a full slate of tales whispered on the wind through many summers. As twilight leans forward, daylight is lost in memory. A hush descends on the island's domain. Listen to its ancient song.

Evening's wind descends with an eerie whistle. Its restless spirit comes quickly from a sweep of clouds, increasing in velocity as it twists between the trees. The trees are heavy, their branches a refuge for fur and feather. Windy puffs grow bolder. Fallen pine needles dance restlessly from one spot to another. In their new locations they prepare to take root, to tap and rise as new sprouts of life.

Other sounds begin their march under darkening sky beneath a movement of wings. Branches groan quietly. A hooting owl settles in the security of a red pine.

Night is a cloak, a blanket, the sun's bright afterglow signaling day's farewell. Pink and yellow, even mottled blue mingle in the framework between island and sky, a hint of red is the lingering goodnight kiss. The shadows knit between tall trees along the shore, the island a darker shadow on the lake. From the mainland it is unseen now, disappeared. Only a closer look reveals that night on this acre of serenity is an awakening.

Nearby, waves stir, moving in quiet 'shushes' at the shore. Cowlicks of white crest each surge of water. Their repetition of movement is patient as the stars watching from above. Now listen.

 

A sudden halting of sound and motion. A familiar call interrupts the chill in the night air like a flute. "AAH-OOH-AAH-OOH-AAH." It is the cry of release from a loon. For many seasons he has claimed this island. Now the lingering serenade of his mate repeats in ascending waves. These sounds herald the beginning of evening activities.

 

 

 

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