Mountain flowers flowed out in carpet under the granite teeth of bears, the silksong still waters shifting slip from lake to falls a canyon behind. Though half a mile north and downhill, he could hear the faint roar of cascade against rigid sharp stones below as the waters would slip yet further away.
Cedar breezes and that mystery smell of water evaporating in the sun on grey stone. He wanders this place as if he lives here, though it has gone a lifetime away. Chill mountain lakes, snowcapped peaks thrust still here at the top of a world.
He brushes away the pine needles browning on the rock overlooking the shallow lake, just a broad space of river as it slow shifts water from higher places to low. He sits and waits for her arrival, wondering if today will be her day.
4 responses to “Silksong”
Striking imagery. Thanks for taking us into this poetic world.
Thanks Bob. 🐦⬛
Beautiful imagery here, and some wonderful turns of phrase. A bit of a departure in some ways (but a good one) – a hunting bear, or someone reflecting on the past? Works for me.
Left ambiguous, certainly.
The place is real. My memory of it might not be. It’s been 25 years or so since I last saw it. A wide spot in the mountain river called Sioux Charley Lake in the Beartooth Mountain Range of Montana. I’d love to go back there again. Maybe I will one day.