Open water on Crystal Lake, the ice is off.
Woke to the murmer of a gray lake and an empty wind in a deep silence. The kwhoo of a morning dove, caw of a crow, and the trill and warble of song birds never overlapping. Each event takes it turn, opening and closing the lovely quiet as if to make it more.
The sudden rich echo of a seagull’s cackle reminds me what’s ahead. A maybe March in Northern Michigan, maybe waking up, maybe winter is over – just maybe. Around these parts that’s enough.
Without my morning sojourn in the icy outhouse, I’d be a just another human without a clue. So thanks Dan Kelly for having the good sense to accumulate nitrogen outside and open to awakening.