One Single Impression: Obsession

From August 20, 2011

Early on in the season
I couldn't walk within a quarter mile
Of this pristine priest of the marsh
Without his scolding me in a foreign language
And flying up and around the osprey nest and the neighbor's house
In a great show of saintly indignation.

Months later, I come within feet of this character,
My worn flip-flops clopping along on the pavement
My fingers fumbling with the ringing phone I will not answer.
 (Not here. Not now. Not before his holiness.)

But it doesn't matter.He doesn't bother about me anymore.

I could be any other rock or tree, turtle or deer.
I am a part of the landscape now,
Not a ripple across the smooth surface of mystery
But a part of it.

(Topsail Island is my obsession, as any visitor to this blog well knows.  The great white herons there make for a magical sight.  Getting by them without causing a disturbance makes for an incredible challenge.  The other day, my daughter headed out with my DSLR around her necks and took a pile of photos of this guy performing his morning ablutions.  I am amazed she got so many shots without his taking umbrage and flying off.  I guess he waited until she left before he donned his shower cap and finished the job!)
One Single Impression