Enchanting and a morning poem

Another perfect morning. The water was cold - measuring about 11, there was no wind, no waves and good visibility. It was lovely. This is really just a great time of the year!

Morning Poem - Mary Oliver

Every morning the world is created.

Under the orange sticks of the sun

the heaped ashes of the night turn

into leaves again and fasten themselves

to the high branches– and the ponds appear

like black cloth on which are painted islands

of summer lilies.

If it is your nature to be happy

you will swim away along the soft trails

for hours, your imagination alighting everywhere.

And if your spirit carries within it

the thorn that is heavier than lead–

if it’s all you can do to keep on trudging–

there is still somewhere deep within you

a beast shouting that the earth is exactly what it wanted–

each pond with its blazing lilies is a prayer heard

and answered lavishly, every morning,

whether or not you have ever dared

to be happy, whether or not you have ever dared to pray.

6am

7am