If I could

If I could see beyond the curvature of the earth, I could see Alpena Michigan. If I could sail a Clipper Ship, I could sail to China. If I could hold this moment, it would last forever. Today the wind is more than 25 knots. There is not a haze upon the horizen. The water is green and blue and frothy. I have walked to the island deck, sat in the Mascoka chair and contemplated all that I could see. A pair of seaguls drift in the wind, slowly being pushed from the shore and more inland. They dive and twist, catching another air current and rise again, searching the shore waters for their prey.

Earlier in the day, I had been in Keading for the Farmer's Market and livestock auction. Cherries and tomatoes, onions and scallions, thick sliced bacon and lean cut ham sausage ring were duely scrutinized, fondled and purchased. There are hundreds of stalls; Amish with black and white hats, buggies, plastic cardtables with lettace and potatoes, rows of berry jams. Cattle were lowing and chickens were clucking. There were tables piled high with Chinese made belts and gloves and nicknacks. The baked goods were real, fresh and inviting. Antiques, real and imagined occasionlly draws one's mind to a different era.

Tonight I am going to the Lutomski's for Pizza.

Tonight I am wearing my silver whisle. Last evening a black bear meandered through the shallows of Purgatory Harbour. Lately, on all my walks including shoreline walks, I wear my whisle. People from Whiskey Harbour and Devil's Glen having "cottaged" over the weekend who had left their garbage out for Monday pickup will find it strewn about when they come back. A mini dump every few houses; what bear could ask for anything more. Hence I carry my whistle, to scare the beast were we to cross paths. The whistle makes me feel better at least. Today's sun and sky and water and wind make me feel even better.