by Louise Goulet
The sun was sinking below the ragged mountain peaks,
bathing the valley below in a warm golden glow.
A light wind was drifting up the steep valley slopes,
caressing the shivering saffron grasses and the silvery willows
who were shimmering against a crimson sky.
Below the river was lazily meandering, sparkling in the dying light,
past dark spruces and emerald oxbows.
A moose was feeding mid-calf in a crescent-shaped slough,
water and green grassy ribbons dripping from its mouth.
Time had stopped as I stood entranced above the valley floor.
Mysterious chemicals pathways were engraving in my mind,
for decades to come, this time, this place where I had come to be
and where a part of me still is; all senses tingling, in awe,
overwhelmed by the beauty and wildness of this untamed world.
September 2009
Louise, I don’t think that I know you, but I surely know the feeling of that mysterious beauty, particularly the grandness and grace of a feeding moose – your words bring back to me the immenseness of the silence while on a canoe trip round the Bowron Lakes many years ago.
Thanks Louise – brings back many good memories.
Wow! Beautiful. One can feel the awe. Thank you.
Very nice. Thanks for that.