Wild Cape Photography
The cedars groaned in the vernal breeze,
As the stars twinkled on in the eternal sky,
The darkness lay like a blanket over the gentle night,
Waiting ever so patiently for the light,
And there I stood in the bright moonlight.
Oh for the light I’d dreamt,
But for now the night will do,
Until again I see the lights beautiful hue.
I stand at the base of the snow-covered mountains,
These great Adirondack giants are waiting patiently for spring,
Pine and birch lay dormant in the promise of what’s to come,
Like the night yearns for the dawn,
So do these mighty mountains ache for the vernal sun,
For the Loon to call from the placid lakes below,
Beckoning the breath of life from the heavens onto all that lay below,
Rejuvenating this tundra from desolate ice to sublime grandeur.
As the frigid winds of winter take their last bow,
And snow and ice melt to their gentler form,
The sun shines a little brighter than the winter days of yore.
The wondrous rhythm of birds arriving from the south,
Signals rebirth as it has many times before,
But in the midst of nature’s return to form,
There is a sign of the rebirth that nature does adore,
That of the new life, of the one that lives forevermore.
Trees glistening with freshly fallen rain,
As the evening sun makes it way through the ominous clouds,
The waves of the bay dance in glee,
As a red breasted merganser floats in the distance,
Evenings in Maine can only be described as beauty itself.