August 13

Surprise Snack

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Our for a paddle finding wild fruit

Kayak hulls knock against rocky shoreline

When we see the shrubs we make a beeline

Summer adventure with a snack to boot

Everything tastes better fresh from the source

And these small sweet dark berries hit the spot

It’s difficult not to grab the whole lot

Have to remember they’re all the birds’ got

One for us three for them without remorse

St. George Lake offers scenery for days

And many small islands to circumvent

Didn’t even need insect repellent

On Maine’s water with fruit we are content

Until the next time we paddle and graze

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(An American Sonnet)

June 22

The Longest Day

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With desire to view

The shortest night’s debut

We’re on the lake at twilight

From the seats of our boats

Time flying as we float

Sky shifts from washed-out to bright

A rainbow sans the arc

Daylight morphs into dark

We paddle into the night

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(A Balassi Stanza)

January 22

I come into the presence of still water


When confused, overwhelmed muddled or unsure I

   grab my boat, my paddle, my vest, my gear and ask friends and family to come.

We set shuttle, we change clothes, we unload gear, we quietly, gently slip into

the water of the moment, running river, ripples and rapids, the

current slowly, maybe quickly carrying my boat and my worries and doubts away, requiring presence.

Focus, concentration, joy settles in place of

doubt and confusion creating a mind and soul that’s still

despite the movement of the water.


(A Golden Shovel poem Featuring a line from The Peace of Wild Things by Wendell Berry)