There is a framed poem sitting on a table in the house I'll stay for the next 10 days. Behind this poem is the above view of Orcas Island.
I was welcomed here-clear gold
of late summer, of opening autumn
the dawn eagle sunning himself on the highest tree
the mountain revealing herself unclouded, her snow
tinted apricot as she looked west,
tolerant, in her steadfastness, of the restless sun
forever rising and setting.
Now I am given
a taste of the grey foretold by all and sundry,
a grey both heavy and chill. I've boasted, I would not care,
I'm London-born, And I won't. I'll dig in,
into my days, having come here to live, not to visit.
Grey is the price
of neighboring with eagles, of knowing
a mountain's vast presence, seen or unseen.
- Denise Levertov