A Gift

Last fall Bernie and I were staying in Southwest Harbor, Maine.
I photographed alone each morning and evening,
   not venturing more than 20 or 30 miles,
      so we’d have time to go to breakfast each morning,
         and to dinner afterward each evening.
By the time the last morning arrived,
   I felt I had run out of nearby places to explore.
Then I remembered a small sign
   where a gravel road disappeared into a woods:
      “Seal Cove Pond.”
Why not?
I found the road, then drove, and drove, and drove.
Two lanes turned into one;
   the gravel became dirt;
      the trees crowded in on each side.
Twice I almost turned back.
Then the lane turned right and abruptly ended.
I remember I took a quick breath.
Before me lay utterly still water.
An utterly diaphanous fog.
Utterly muted autumn colors in the distance.
Without knowing what I’d find, or if I’d find,
   I was given a gift of finding more than I hoped for.
At this time of the year,
   I am reminded all the ways we’re gifted, unexpectedly.
We turn right, or left,
   we look up, or down,
      and there it is: the freely, generously offered.
Our best response is always the simplest:
   thank you.