Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar.
Yesterday, I visited one of my favorite places, the pristine old growth forest in northern Michigan, and tried to capture its contemplative mood in the day’s waning light.
(photo: Huron National Forest, Michigan)
A jewel of a lake in northern Michigan’s old growth forest, a gift left behind by the retreating glacier many thousands of years ago.
Evening’s waning light is the brush stroke that touches a northern Michigan woods.