The Loudness of the Sunset

Lake Superior sunsets are loud, particularly in this time of year. We are between the tumult of the winter with its night time winds, and the songs of summer, with the birds and the frogs and the wolves all calling to each other. We are even before the Spring, with its sounds of people, out and about once again. We are in the inbetween time, when the sun thaws the top of the snow, and the night freezes it over again. The ground itself becomes a sheet of icy mystery. And we as humans project our own stories and anxieties into that icy layer of barren snow.

The sound of a Lake sunset is loud. 
It tells stories of the traditions of college students 
biking down to the rust belt breakwater 
on a first date. Stories 
of fire spinners and lovers 
shy together 
in tender moments by the creek. 
Never in the same spot from year to year 
As the creek shifts between channels. 
The Lake sunset tells booming stories in echoes of colors 
But not the colors themselves 
Giving space for new stories 
New kisses under cotton scarves 
And so the colors are ever brighter and sweeter in their memory 
Until they go grey in their eyes. 
And then dark. 

In one sense this is the season of greatest hope for the future, when the sap is just about to run and buds just about to bloom. Then again it is the season of greatest waiting, in anticipation for the sounds. And the silence seems timeless. The sunset and moonrise the only solace of time moving forward. All potential still.