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Posts Tagged ‘canoeing’

Linda Baie has the Poetry Friday Roundup at Teacher Dance.
Boy in a canoe watching a great white egret

Last weekend we kept two of my grandchildren overnight. It was an opportunity to get them out in the canoe on the bayou. Leo is almost 7, so Jeff decided it was time to put him in the front to paddle. He doesn’t have a powerful stroke, but he knows how to put the paddle in and push. He was also very curious and aware of the nature around us. We watched an egret fly from place to place as we got closer to it.

I’ve been listening to Maggie Smith’s Dear Writer. I need to just buy a copy because I want to reread her wisdom and model poems, but the audio has her voice which I also love on The Slowdown. She has wonderful insight into metaphor, especially extended metaphor.

I offered this poem for critique with the Inklings last weekend. I used the metaphor cypress lighthouse and one of them asked, “What is a cypress lighthouse?” I guess I wasn’t clearly using the word lighthouse as a metaphor. Maggie Smith suggests letting the title hold more weight for a poem. I’ve attempted this because I wanted to keep the lighthouse metaphor.

To the Great White Egret in a Tall Cypress Tree

The new slant of autumn sun
blooms in a cypress lighthouse.

You light up like a swamp lily, 
shining above our bayou.

How could I describe the richness 
of my life?
Watching your white wings
hold a stillness—
a moment
of daylight,
perched and ready
for what change 
may come. 

Margaret Simon, draft

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Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

“Do you know if there are lily pads, it means the water isn’t deep?” Leo, the 6 year old expert asked his sister Stella.

“Well, I can paddle through these lily pads,” Stella replied as she put her short metal paddle into the water.

Thirty minutes earlier, Stella, age 4, was unsure about getting into a canoe, but she quickly became a brave expert.

Stella stops to smile for the camera while Leo looks out for wildlife. The man in the stern is Papère.

“Look, Stella! I’m making a tunnel with my paddle!” Leo discovered how water passing over a paddle makes a wave.

“I see two, no four birds!” exclaimed Stella.

Papère asked, “Do you see those bubbles? That means there’s something under there.”

“Maybe it’s an alligator?” Leo responded with no fear in his voice.

As we paddled, we came across a real alligator. Here’s a video of our encounter.

Alligator encounter in the bayou. Estimated size 6 ft.

Our canoeing morning was just the right end to a weekend with our grandchildren.

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Inspired by Molly Hogan’s post, “Diary of a Maine Spring,” I am finishing the Slice of Life March Challenge with a diary of a sunset paddle on the Bayou Teche. I’ve lived almost twenty years on this bayou named “Teche” (tesh) for the Native American word for snake. Not so named because there are snakes (there are), but because of its winding shape.

With our busy lives, work, school, activities, dancing, grandchildren, we don’t paddle our backyard as often as we “should”. Saturday offered us a window of time and a perfect weather day, low 70’s and clear skies.

My husband steers the canoe. I sit in the front and paddle most of the time. He allows me, encourages me rather, to stop and take photos. He even pulled the boat closer to the shore to take a photo of the white spider lily which is blooming now. I’m glad you can’t smell the huge dead garfish that was also on the bank caught up in cypress knees.

I nurtured my inner peace (One Little Word ’24) for a few hours of the evening. I let go of all and let God show me Creation at its most beautiful. An Easter vigil, of sorts. A perfect end of a perfect spring day. A sure sign of resurrection and life.

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On Sunday morning we paddled on Mother Earth’s church, the Bayou Teche. The day was near perfect with a little cloud cover and moderate temperatures. We invited friends to join us. We actually saw an alligator. He was a juvenile about 3 feet long sunning himself on some concrete rip-rap. I got a good picture of him. He was totally still, not spooked at all by our moving closer to him. He smiled for me.

Gator juvenile, downtown New Iberia, LA. photo by Margaret Simon

Bayou Cinquain

Notice
how light dances
on bayou’s belly rolls
washing us with soothing hopeful
Nurture

Margaret Simon
Bayou Teche, New Iberia, LA (photo by Margaret Simon)

The Progressive Poem is with Janet today at Tabatha’s blog The Opposite of Indifference.

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Looking at the calendar-chart plan for this month, I realize I haven’t written a cinquain yet. This form is a five-lined verse with a syllable count 2, 4, 6, 8, 2. Yesterday was the most perfect spring day after a raging storm the night before. The air was breezy with a touch of cool. Perfect canoeing weather, so Jeff and I seized the day and paddled for a couple hours. One of our goals for each paddle is to clean up crap junk from the bayou. Yesterday we retrieved a basketball, a soccer ball, and a few cans and water bottles, one large piece of styrofoam. A small part, but we had a good time finding and trying to retrieve it.

Notice
how light dances
on bayou’s belly rolls
washing us with soothing hopeful
Nurture

Margaret Simon, draft

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Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

Saturday brought warmer winds and time. My husband suggested a paddle on the bayou. Living on the Bayou Teche, we try to take opportunities to go out in the canoe. We know that too often we are too busy, or it’s too hot, or too cold, or too ___ fill-in-the-blank.

Our paddle to the East–
soft breeze,
flock of yellow-crown night herons,
waves to friends on their back porch.
Stop for a beer break, turn back toward the sunset.
sun majestic on the water,
an Eagle sighting,
simple beauty.

Eagle over Bayou Teche at sunset, photo by Margaret Simon (iPhone)

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Click over to Mary Lee’s site for more poetry.

 

Fran McVeigh gave me a magnet at NCTE: “Explore new possibilities.”  I’m considering the word explore for my 2018 One Little Word, but for today, it inspired the title for a poem requested by Carol Varsalona for her #AutumnAblaze gallery.  She saw my photograph on Facebook from a recent canoe voyage on the Bayou Teche (pronounced “tesh”).  I loved the photo, too, and was resistant to writing about it.  I want you to know this is still in draft, so you can leave soft critique in the comments.

Duperier Bridge on Bayou Teche, New Iberia, LA. photo by Margaret Simon

Explore New Possibilities

On the water,
the canoe turns
toward a horizon
I do not know.

I paddle-pull
under a bridge,
listen to the rumble-
a passing car

like thunder from rolling clouds.
Under a bridge
where teenagers
huddle close and smoke,

where wooden gates
direct water
as if one could
contain such a wild thing,

a golden sunset
draws me toward
a new destination.

–Margaret Simon

Mary Lee Hahn invites us to join #haikuforhealing. Inspired by the same photo, a haiku:

where road meets water
a bridge, a golden sunset
a new horizon.

–Margaret Simon

 

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Join the Two Writing Teachers blog for the Slice of Life Challenge.

Join the Two Writing Teachers blog for the Slice of Life Challenge.

Living on the bayou is a gift I don’t always remember to appreciate, but on Saturday, I announced to my husband, “It’s a gorgeous day. We have to go canoeing.”

For the first Saturday this month we had little to do. I sat outside on my deck, clean and inviting from the wedding we had a few short weeks ago, and watched my neighbors prepare for their daughter’s wedding reception. Tents and lights and tables and chairs were going up, and all I needed to do was watch. The lack of responsibility felt freeing.

Peeking through the grandmother oak to the wedding prep next door.

Peeking through the grandmother oak to the wedding prep next door.

Jeff quickly grabbed the paddles, life jackets, and a lunchbox of two beers, and launched the canoe. This canoe has a long history, close to 50 years. The Grumman. He and his brother bought it together when they were Boy Scouts competing in canoe races.

Jeff paddles the stern, the steering part.

Jeff paddles the stern, the steering part.

The bayou was slow and still, offering endless reflections. The air was a perfect 70+ degrees. I know that happiness is fleeting, but on this day in October, we grabbed hold of it, and spent some time savoring and celebrating the goodness.

Cypress tree reflection

Cypress tree reflection

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