The Ghost & The Sunrise

This is not the sandy shoreline and the sun-filled, cloudless sky I write about today, but this is The Lake and these rocks actually are only a few miles from that beach on which I slept. This place is called the Black Rocks, and I have "danced" with my canoe many times amongst them. And, this is The Lake to me. It was Lac de Superior or Nadouessious to the early French explorers --  the superior lake or the lake of the Sioux. This is where many places appear the same now as they did ten thousand years ago, when the last glaciers disappeared into clear, cold, blue water. This is where one version of Neverland exists, from my rather narrow point of view. 

I am nervous, so I write

Like many disenchanted humans before me, and, undoubtedly, many after me, upon the dissolution of a relationship, I once opted to secure a pet to console me. My choice was a young, female German Shepherd.

Things went well for about a year, but the time eventually came when I was on the road and could not be accompanied by a German Shepherd. I left her with my parents. I have felt guilty about doing this ever since, although I knew then and believe yet today that her life was much better with them than it would have been with me. In short, she lived her life as a princess, with everything in the world required to keep her happy and healthy.

A few nights ago, I awoke in the proverbial middle of the night, opened my eyes and saw what might have been a wolf, but, what I immediately knew was my German Shepherd sitting next to where I slept. Her face was a foot or, possibly, eighteen inches from my own. It was dark, so there were no distinct features. She was, in fact, black. It was the shape of her head and her ears that made her instantly recognizable to me. She startled me. My heart, I think, skipped a beat. She was there for a few seconds, then faded away over the span of a few more seconds.

When I told a friend about this occurence, I said I was uncertain if the apparition I saw was a wolf or a dog. But, I knew, and had known from the very first glimpse of her. It was Argos, the German Shepherd who was mine for a year and then left behind by me.

This friend, a young lady who is both intelligent and knowledgeable about such matters, told me the spirit of Argos was there because she wished to communicate with me. I would like to think she was there to thank me for having ensured that she had a good life. But, I worry, because having a good life is not always the same as having the life you desire.

There is more to this story than I am telling, but who among us reveals everything?

The most perfect morning

Once upon a time, in a place that served me as Neverland for a few years, I drove my truck along a winding, logging road through deep and dark woodlands to the shore of Lake Superior. I knew the path, and traveled it often, but usually not in the darkness of midnight as was the case this time.

Near the shoreline, I parked, took cigarettes, lighter, a quart of brandy and my sleeping bag, and with them walked along the beach until I found a suitable place to pitch camp. Beneath a clear and starry sky, maybe fifteen feet from the shoreline where foot-high waves gently rolled and rocked and crashed, I began digging down in the sand. The deeper I dug, the warmer the sand became. A foot beneath the surface, the sand was still actually hot from absorbing the rays of the sun throughout the day. (See, you learned something today.)

I dug a place large enough to fit my entire body. It was the perfect bed -- soft, warm sand contoured to my body. I lay down within it, covered myself with my sleeping bag, lit a cigarette, opened the quart of brandy and stared at the twinkling stars in a pitch black sky. I watched a full moon begin to rise over the waters of The Lake. A mile, possibly two, offshore, I saw an iron ore carrier slide slowly across a glistening beam of light which led directly from the moon to me.

Somewhere along the line, I fell asleep.

The sun woke me.

It was the heat of the sun shining on my face as it rose up over The Lake that woke me. I lit a cigarette, uncorked the brandy and watched the sunrise. A few minutes later, I got up, walked back to my truck and pushed this song into the tape player. With all six speakers in the truck blasting to heights unimagined, I sat down with another cigarette in one hand and the bottle of brandy in my other hand, and listened to the words of this song while looking out over the most beautiful body in the world -- the living body of Lake Superior.

The golden sun and the throbbing music and the pure, blue sky joined with The Lake to form what might have been the most perfect morning in my life. I never have been able to duplicate those few moments I experienced that morning -- moments of absolute contentment blended with complete exhilaration from the sensations of being alive -- but, I continue to try.

Sunrise

Sunrise, and the new day's breakin' through

The morning of another day without you
And as the hours roll by
No-one's there to see me cry
Except the sunrise...
The sunrise and you.

Tired eyes drift across the shore
Looking for love and nothing more
But as the sea rolls by
No-one's there to see me cry
Except the sunrise...
The sunrise and you.

Sunrise, - bless my eyes,

Catch my soul - make me whole

- Again.

Sunrise, new day, hear my song

I am tired of fightin' and foolin' around

But from now till who knows when

My sword will be my pen

And I'll love you, love you
For all of my time.

Sunrise, - bless my eyes
Catch my soul and make me whole

- Again.