Paddling, muted sounds of moving water.
The canoe slides quietly through
The shining black landscape.
Portaging, neoprene sloshing in the mud.
Awkwardly, watching each slow step,
Working for just the right balance.
Sleeping, boisterous loons cry out.
Voices traveling through the black, moonless night,
From all directions, they call and respond.
Eating, black flies surround me.
Seemingly innocuous, but not.
My bug net frustrates their dinner plans.
Overwhelmed by joyous solitude as the sun rises,
I sit to watch and listen to a world
Uncluttered by motors, freeways, traffic.
My face relaxes into a smile.
I hear myself breathe.