dream walkings

Idaho 1997

It is a blustery cold fall day.  The lake is turbulent and gray-green.  Monster winds blast the beach and trees, creating leaf storms and covering everything with a yellow and orange blanket.  Clouds push across the sky almost as if chased by Great Thunderbird.  The mountains protecting us from behind have been covered overnight by Father winter leaving them white and majestic.  

The water is low, allowing the sand to collect the foot prints of a large moose and an assortment of other small animals that came in the dark protection of night.

Determined black clouds moving swiftly overhead, and I am hoping to catch the sunrise on the mountain across the lake. Normally dark green, it is now speckled with yellow and orange trees looking like a slumbering cinnamon bear. Plumes of cottonwood trees line our shore. They stand as sentinels, acting as both protector and beckoner. I love this place and would not have it changed, but that is unfortunately inevitable.