The following poem is being published at the request of its author, Nicole Pepper, and was written in celebration of the Providence Bay Sunset Series.
Music at the Beach
A slew of spectators, chairs and blankets
placed in random order on the grass
sit in anticipation of the music,
like a homestead clothesline hanging out
in Island air
moving hither and thither
laughing in the wind
with pegged up shirts
and pants ascending in sizes;
large white bed sheets
flapping and folding
with a quick slap and snap of sheet-
pushing out whiffs
of fresh clean cotton
among wild green and yellow grasses
that stretch upward
towards white puffs of cumulus clouds
continuously fading and forming into bubbles
against an azure, bluer-than-blue sky-
all here actively waiting
in the warm, golden glaze of the sun
On this Island
aged cedar shacks lay
in lonely landscapes
burning in isolation-left
with dilapidated barns in the distance
still somehow standing,
as blinked into the timeframe
of unshakeable memories
that still ring familiar;
like the toll of a clanking halyard
on a sailor’s mast
moored to an old, wooden dock,
or where waiting rolled up hay bales
dry out in open, freshly cut fields-
these clear cut pictures
outlined in high definition images
emerge as scenic scapes-
what you will-
or as foggy experiences
that wade down forgotten, dusty roads
leading to a point
and arrive at a camp or cottage
or urban farmstead, loud
and alive with the words
that sound about the place
with no time in mind,
but for the toil in the soil
and the labour of the land
and to watch the setting sun
in its mulberry stained sky
at end of day
watching the cool glow of the moon rising
gazing through double-tipped tree tops;
a black lace veil draped over porcelain skin,
and then,
to be struck dumb
by the dark starry sky-
navigating the earth’s rotation
and all the seasons
and all the while and forever-
now seated in the north
on Manitoulin Island
where the silence hugs
and music awaits
People, shaped and defined
by the warm, late afternoon sun,
sit as an audience
with glimpses of light
spilling over their forms,
momentarily meeting for the musicians,
recalled to this space-
maybe for a second chance meeting
at the Sunset Series-
a free concert at the beach
They sit in fold-up chairs with loved ones
and neighbours, besides-
bursts of giggles with shifts of kids
scooting between them to-and fro-
licking ice creams larger than their fists,
big, cold dollops of deliciousness
melting like a glacier
over the edge of the Canadian shield;
sitters suck on straws, slurp from cans
as children assimilate their surroundings
visiting one t’other
within the safe perimeter of parents
Fading in the distance at the back,
shifty eyes under a stern brown survey the crowd,
the woman besides, strangely quiet while
standing under the shadow of dark glasses
looking over grey heads of hair and straw hats;
purple flowers in tall grasses
Guiding eagles soar,
hawks circle past,
swooping seagulls squawk
and pass as silhouettes
beside the setting swirl of sun
reflected in a billion celestial stars
spilling abundantly
onto the constant lap and slurp of water
where wavy lines etch their way
onto the wet shore
that stretches out the length of beach
to the horizon line
of the Great Lake Huron
vast, as well as deep-
within the endless echo in its ear
it beats
The Song of the Drum
And Big Canoe crossing
Live music plays here
as free as sweet grass in an open field-
as kind as a caress of breeze
across this sacred land;
as love notes kiss the evening air
and leave messages in the sand.
Nicole Pepper
Providence Bay
