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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 7, Number 2, June 2013


Gary LeBel
Cumming, Georgia, USA

Up close

It surfaces—I tread the water slowly trying hard to be still. Inscrutably beautiful, it conceals its curiosity behind a guise of cool indifference. Its wild irises smolder in depths of luminous crimson.

Up close, the loon looks large and heavy, as if carved from a single block of living stone. The shed water breaks into a myriad of silver droplets as it trickles down its jet black plumage; swimming little more than an arm’s length away, its characteristic banding looks as spotlessly white as the whitest clouds.

waterlilyWhen I was here a decade ago, a smaller loon had also swum in close enough to touch, but then as now, there was nothing to be gained by pushing the boundaries the lovely bird had set,

for to want more is to go too far, and miss your chance entirely.

Held by the bend
near the end of the road

Note: Image by Ray Rasmussen



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