from cove lake, mt. magazine

March 3, 2022

As I sat beneath the tree on the slopes of Mount Magazine, I realized that it had been awhile since I had watched the stars come out in their entirety. It’s been cold. I’ve been resting. And those city lights are simply not good for stargazing.

It was overwhelming.

Freeing.

Beginning in November I’ve been watching Orion rise above the horizon nearly every night.. but this night, Sirius was already in high noon pursuit, chasing the hunter across the sky when the sun went down.

From my hammock, I watched the stars twinkle back and forth between the pine trees. Let me set the scene. Frogs croaking. Owls hooting. Geese honking. The sound of water falling — a running creek filling up the lake. Me — being still and noticing everything.

I felt alive with the sound of everything around me. The same music I hear out there — is inside of me here.

Calm. Floating. Weightless.

Entirely full of grace.

Words fall short of these moments by the lake.

—

the owl calls
who who
somewhere in the night
the creek falling and flowing
melted ice
last week’s storm unfrozen
because now it’s sunny and 75
who who
it’s me, I whisper back softly
I came to sleep outside
watch the sunrise
close my eyes and know
who who
the stars are with me always
bright with their shine
who who
this moment is a moment
a moment in time
who who
it’s me, I whisper back softly