THE MARSH

What with Covid-19 still a threat we here in Ontario, Canada, find ourselves in a lockdown with a stay at home order. Consequently, we're not able to get out to the marsh to welcome back spring. This will be the first time in over 40 years that I haven't been able to get out on the marsh to listen to the wind, the honking of geese, and the trills of frogs and toads lost in their mating songs. However, I'm fortunate, I have lots and lots of memories to encourage me to write, and make the occasional sketch.

Tiny Marsh  Pencil Sketch. 2020

THE MARSH (WINTER)

In winter the marsh grows silent, 

snow blankets the frozen water, 

Dogwoods huddle along the shore, 

dried grasses rustle in the wind, and 

create swirling patterns in the snow. 

Silence reigns.

Crows circle high up, 

ever watchful.
Life is put on hold, 

waiting....

THE MARSH (SPRING)

Winds blow steadily from out of the north, and 
whips darkening clouds
across the once blue ,
sunlit,
sky.

The marsh,
once green and lush,
with waters filled with life, 
is now frozen,
snow covered, and seemingly,
devoid,....
of all life.

The snow swept shore
is ringed by dead cattails, that clatter,
and chatter,
defying...
the wind.

A coyote,
chased by the wind,
sniffs the air, and
finding nothing there,
seeks shelter in the Dogwoods, and cedars, that
cling to the shore.

Dried grasses swirl and sway
in the wind, 
and create patterns on new fallen snow.

Ravens that once circled high in the sky
seek shelter
in nearby pines.

The wind blows relentless with no end in sight, but 

with the night
thereʼs quiet, and
the stars, 

slowly,
come into sight.

Snow and cold comes, 
and stays,
until,
one day,
the sun lengthens its stay.

Out on the ice there are patches of water.

The wind,
once threatening,
is now beckoning, and 

geese soon appear.

Life banished by the cold, 
slowly creeps back,
here,
and there.

Spring, finally, itʼs here.

Back of the Marsh.   Mallards.   Hand-coloured Etchings