April Magic on an Ozark River
When the Bluebells drip Swallowtails
And the sun peeks through the trees
You understand
the Bottomlands become Fairylands
Sorcery in seclusion
just above the river
So conjure the time
for this April portal call
This temporal beauty transforms,
Delivers
___________________________________________________________________________
Or better yet, find a little creek that wanders back into the woods. Park your canoe, climb up the bank…
Wowsers, what a site! Hey, that’s me sittin’ by a woodpile and our campsite is already set…yeah, I’m already there J
Seriously though, on this particular trip of the Jacks Fork River, what a great discovery!
*convenient parking on the nearby creek
and easy for unloading
*just enough firewood for storytelling’ (and sometimes swappin’ lies)
*no rain in the forecast=No tent tonight
*did I mention the Bluebells?
And April is the one time of year when we can camp in the woods. It’s a golden opportunity to experience the depth of spring by immersion…
It’s everywhere we are; spring has us covered.
We set up camp in a jiffy. No tent tonight, but we’ll tie a tarpaulin to trees-
shelters us from dew bombs that Woodland Fairies drop throughout the night.
And as evening approaches, we have a simple plan.
Hearty Irish stew(previously frozen) cooked on the Coleman in a porcelain pan, and there’s plenty of firewood close at hand.
Heat n’ eat and easy wood pickin’s – very nice!
After supper, it’s almost dark and I can feel the cold air falling and hear the whippoorwills calling…
I feel a sudden spinal shiver.
And so,
we strike up the favo(rite) ritual of comfort and light
Our rite of passage into the night
It’s not much longer till the fire is at a roar.
I’m warming to the core as I look up above the fire and see the canopies of trees, the underside of newest leaves,
awash in firelight aglow.
It feels like we’re tucked away in a cozy little den from an old storybook, or Tolkien Middle Earth scene.
It’s a beautiful spring night, the sky is clear, the Big Dipper appears,
and right on cue, Mr. Hooty Hoot(the Barred Owl) calls from a little upstream.
Pretty soon the moon will be arcing over the bluffs and across the river.
Then high up in the hills, the Whippoorwill instructs us to be still.
It’s well past midnight as my head hits the pillow. I’m thinking about the exuberance of spring, the mystical feel of it’s transient, enchanting beauty…
As I start to drift off, I hear a favorite melody(verse) that will mythologize my dreams,
And no one knows where the clear creek goes
when the moonlight fades in the forest
but the Peacock screams and the gypsy dreams
Of a time gone by before us
-Gypsy Forest; Ozark Mountain Daredevils
Peace on the River
Post Post Notes: (We always look forward to seeing the Dogwoods and Redbuds in bloom too, but hitting that time window at the right time with the right weather and water conditions has always proved to be difficult.
Please check my “archive/spring” posts in “Seasonal”/ more spring photos.
April 25th, 2013 saat: 11:10 pm
Beautiful post, beautiful writing!