Still in Woody Point in Gros Morne National Park, I awoke on Summer Solstice morn to a still sleeping village.  My house mates had already dressed and made their way to the Granite Coffee Shop, the morning ritual for breakfast and the day’s itinerary.  I savoured the stillness and solitude as I collected myself and the requisite supplies for a day of kayaking in Bonne Bay.  I left “Uncle Steve’s Place,” our bed and breakfast, and ambled down the road, camera in hand, present to the awakening day, and promise held in the full rising sun.

II

Woody Point, Gros Morne

Early Sunday Summer Solstice Morn

 June 21, 2015

 A Bonne Bay full of Sun on this Sacred Sunday Summer Solstice morn.

Shhhh…the only sounds…

A choir of birds.

Robin singing, trilling, thrilling.

Black Crow cawing.

Lark warbling.

Red-winged Blackbird wooing.

Blood red blossoms about to burst forth on the front yard crab apple tree.

Water softly lapping on the stony shore.

Locals sitting on their front porch stoops,

sipping coffee,

smoking the day’s first cigarette.

The “from aways” laughter and chatter break the spell.

I stand on yet another threshold

looking for the middle way.