On Cattail Pond


Cattail Pond

Some of you may remember the movie “On Golden Pond” that came out in 1981.  Don’t you love the image that name invokes?  A serene pond-lake golden in the sunset.  A pair of loons welcoming the main characters home.  Ahhh, idyllic.

Cattail 1

We have no golden pond here in the woods near the shores of Lake Superior, but we do enjoy a teeny tiny cattail pond that rests beside our curvy driveway.

It’s always interesting.  In the springtime, tree toads sing from nearby poplars.  In the summer, big fat frogs and toads sun in the murky waters, and green cattails sprout from long lazy stalks.  In autumn red leaves drift upon the water and the cattails puff out in white whisps.  And at this time of year the pond freezes and thaws, freezes and thaws. The old sinks back into the water.  The new yet dreams itself into being at the bottom of the pond.

Nature creatures its patterned art in the falling, the dying, the rotting.

Cattail 2

I took these pictures the other day after a walk to the mailbox.  The reflections of sky on ice, and trees in water, seemed fascinating.

All week–after renewing my WordPress site for another year–smile–I contemplated writing a blog post, but there’s just nothing to say, my dears.

A person might metaphor about freezing and thawing and those effects on the human psyche, but frankly I can’t think of anything to say about it.

Cattail 3

So here are just a few pictures of our Cattail Pond.

Once someone gave me a card that quoted Ansel Adams:

When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs.  When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence.

Cattail 4

Very quietly sitting with this come-and-go game of winter.  The forecasters promise a warm up for the weekend.

Cattail 5

One last picture.  This was the view that caught my eye on the way to the mailbox.  The trees reflected in the water.  One world on top of another.  Depth upon depth available to call a person out of the familiar into the unknown.  A whisper that there’s often a multiplicity revealing itself from the vantage of reflection.

Ha ha!  Couldn’t let a blog post end without a spiritual metaphor.

Thanks for pausing here to reflect with me.    🙂


About Kathy

I live in the middle of the woods in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. Next to Lake Superior's cold shores. I love to blog.
This entry was posted in November 2018 and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

29 Responses to On Cattail Pond

  1. Reflection is a human response to the wonders, inconsistencies, and unknowns about … well just about everything. 🥴 I’ve been to the real “Golden Pond” where the movie was filmed. It’s full of beauteous reflection, just like you.

    • Kathy says:

      Oh how fun that you’ve been to the real Golden Pond. Bet it is lovely! Ahhh….reflecting…makes my heart sing. My son just reminded me that we always called it the “Frog Pond”. I had completely forgotten about that and have been calling it the “Cattail Pond” in my mind for a while now. Thank you, dear reflection, for your words and presence.

  2. sybil says:

    I was a mite worried that your Ansel Adams quote was leading up to saying you’re going on another one of your blogging breaks … hugs.

    • Kathy says:

      Hi Sybil–well, I guess I don’t blame you for thinking that. You never know when a person will head off to blogging break world. But never fear–I have to blog enough to make the $96 worth it, so you’ll hear more from me, even if it’s only pictures. Hugs back my friend!

  3. Carol says:

    Reflections are very good things for reflecting on. Sometimes it seems like the world sending messages silently, waiting until at last we open our eyes, minds, and hearts.

  4. Your words are lovely, as always, and a perfect accompaniment to your photographs. I love the quote!

  5. Stacy says:

    Oh, I always like to pause in your space, Kathi. The silence is golden, isn’t it? Pun intended. XOXO

  6. Stacy says:

    Sorry I misspelled your name – a new friend spells her name with an “i.” Force of habit!

    • Kathy says:

      Oh that is so hard. Trying to remember which of our friends spell which of their names which way. Or who goes by a shortened version of their name and who wants the longer one. I am sure I screw this up all the time. Feel free to call me whatever your fingers type! tee hee

  7. dorannrule says:

    Your reflections and photos on Cattail Pond are wonderful!

  8. Lori says:

    I love how you took me with you to the mailbox and made something mundane into something magical with your photos.

    Btw, in that last photo, if you scroll to where you can’t see the clump of snow at the top, it doesn’t look like a reflection in murky water. It looks like a distant forest dancing in the mist.

    • Kathy says:

      Yes, yes, yes! You said two things that are resonating now. I love seeing the magical in the mundane. That is one of my most favorite things to do in the whole world.
      And, second, your words about the distant forest dancing in the mist…wow. Yes that was exactly the mood and spirit of it. You found the right words to describe it. Thank you!

  9. debyemm says:

    Happy you renewed your blog. That means more beautiful writing and photos to come for the next year. Wishing you merry and bright happy holidays and looking forward to continued connections with you in the coming year.

    • Kathy says:

      Thanks, Deb. It always feels like a tough decision whether to renew or not. Seems like I spent two or three months thinking about it. (Although not in an overly serious way. Just wondering what was going to happen.) Thank you for your lovely holiday greetings and YES to many more connections as 2019 turns onto the horizon.

  10. Barb says:

    We’re back home in CO – arrived yesterday evening. We’re now acclimatinng to the altitude. Getting family company this weekend. I like your reflections – they always speak to me. Take Care of yourself.

    • Kathy says:

      Barb, so glad to hear from you. I hope everything is going well with both of you now that the California time is over. Enjoy your time with family! Then we’ll have to reflect again sometime soon…. xoxoxo

  11. Val says:

    I love your post, Kathy, and I love looking at ponds – in all seasons. Ours is preparing itself for a winter that hasn’t made up its mind whether it wants to be here or not. In the Spring, we are deafened by sometimes over a hundred frogs in chorus (they sound like motorbikes revving up… brrrummm brrrrummmm brrrummmm!)

    I’ve just started reading a book you might like, it’s called ‘How to read water’ and is by Tristan Gooley. I’m not far into it but it’s quite an eye-opener.

    • Kathy says:

      Val, sounds like your pond and my pond are in the same indecisive state. Smiling at the thought of so many frog-motorbikes in your pond every spring! We have a lot of frogs, but probably not as many as you. And it also seems that our frog population is diminishing as the years go by. Will look up that book now. Thanks for the suggestion.

  12. sherrysescape says:

    Very poetic post, Kathy. I really liked it.

  13. Elin England says:

    Reflections and metaphors on freezing and thawing and the effects on the human psyche: Yes. Sometimes it is f*&^%$ cold. Sometimes not. Always changing. And….that’s all I got. 🙂

    • Kathy says:

      Ha ha, Elin, you made me laugh! Sometimes it is f*&^%$ cold! You’ve got more than enough. I love the way you weave in humanity and divinity so poignantly. Thank you so much for pausing here…

  14. Ally Bean says:

    I like change, not for the sake of it per se– but as a way of keeping track of reality. Your pond photos are perfect and your words explain it so well. Nice to find your blog again, btw. I came here via Val’s blogroll.

    • Kathy says:

      Allly Bean (how I’ve always loved your name!) it’s so good to see you again. Interesting about change as a measure of keeping track of reality. Must ponder this some more. Thank goodness for Val!

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