The Act of Being

by Steve on September 26, 2011

Some days even the hardest acts flow naturally as if they were planned long ago. The perfect vantage point to watch over children who barely knew him, to witness the seasons change, to be remembered.


A promise fulfilled.
Ashes returned to the forest.
Granite and quartz from the shore.
Moss from the woods.
Water from the lake.
Tears from the heart.


From the shade of the spruce he watches the pass between the island and the point which mark the mouth of the cove. We came and went many times that way, his muzzle resting on the rail of the canoe sampling the breeze even as he napped, thoroughly content just being along for the ride.

There were several times today when I became acutely aware of the simple things around me but this evening was magical. As the sun dipped behind the mountain the wind died with it and I slipped the canoe into glass. I paddled out to the point and flipped my fly rod without regard to what I had tied on the line. I didn’t care. The fading light in a cloudless sky was like being inside a marble. For 30 minutes I stood in that boat suspended in the glow of the reflected sky casting a streamer and reeling in a perch with almost every cast. Balance, rhythm, no pain, just the music of ducks, geese, and loons.

The light faded along with the fish and I slid silently back through the rocks by memory.

Tough day but absolutely special – as were so many others in the company of “Big Brown”.


Mom September 27, 2011 at 9:31

I’m sure Moose is content. Now he can rest in peace You chose a beautiful spot.

Pinch September 27, 2011 at 12:53

You nailed this one. I’m sitting here with blurry eyes reading about your Moose and thinking of my Lucky. We never went canoeing or rambling in the mountains, but he was still my best friend for 13 years and I miss him so much – to this day. So funny how those animals can become such a part of your heart. Well done.

J Carmichael September 27, 2011 at 13:47

Nice piece Steve… touching and conveyed heart.


Laurie September 27, 2011 at 14:07

Pinch sent me here. What a wonderful tribute to a best friend, and what a beautiful place for him to rest.

Sandy McGinnis September 27, 2011 at 14:32

I’m blurry eyed as well. I miss Moose for you and I’ve only met him through your writtings of him Steve. There is not a day that goes by that I’m sure you don’t think of him. I know I miss my Ridge and it’s been over 3 years after a 14 year relationship. RIP Moose!

Steve September 27, 2011 at 20:42

Thanks for all the wonderful comments!

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