It's 7:30 p.m. - August 20, 1968 - the shore of Lake Superior at Larsmont, 2 mi. so. of Two Harbors. The mother mallard with her six young that we first noticed a month ago sailed out of her indentation in the rock ledge awhile ago & gracefully they are setting a gentle line thru the milky blue water, swelling & mottled with darker blue - from somewhere come heavier swells which roar nicely & slap harder against the rock wall that drags away below me. The sun is setting behind me leaving the sky a turquoise blue & its clouds peach & warm grey.
The boys laugh at their play over on the next outcrop. Chalet growls at my side at the movement of a solitary person away to my right. Another dog barks off the point to my left. Thru my binoculars I see the family of ducks farther out in the lake, evenly spaced spots of dark about half way between me and the rapidly disappearing line where water meets sky, now almost melted together in a distance of lavender & robin's egg blue.
Suddenly there comes a cold swell of air laden with the heavy smell of moisture & fish & I must get a sweater. Back, I see the color has drained from the sky. The light house at Two Harbors sparks the point north of me & south another light appears & disappears - unexpected specks of brightness in the otherwise almost totally grey distance. The water before me is truly beautiful - it is like an infinitely faceted opal - all opaline blue, pink, lavender & grey with occasional dark turquoise shadow-faces. Darkness is gathering & gently falling upon my shoulders. The peace that this place & the distance before me holds, envelopes & fills me and it is as tho there is no tomorrow & other place - only me & the infinity & eternality of water, space, sky & distance.
It is but an illusion.
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