Joy and the Marsh

Jennie and I are on retreat in Nova Scotia. As I write, water laps gently against the deck some fifteen feet from the sitting room door. Evenings last long, as we are in Cape Breton and in high summer. A few tardy boats are make their way to the nearby dock in the growing twilight. An as yet untouched plate of freshly baked cookies sits on the coffee table.

Across the road is a marsh. Earlier today we sat on the hill high above the marsh, watching the local eagles fish the shallow waters. This evening the open water was alive with ducks and a great blue heron. A beaver lodge sits, mostly hidden in the high reeds. Continue reading