How I miss the Rideau River.
I lived in Manotick Ontario for eleven years. During that time I felt blessed to be able to explore by canoe my part of the Rideau River, my part of heaven on earth: from the Swan Pub, up and around Long Island, by Watson’s Mill, to the Long Island locks and all parts in between.
The following is a short ditty of how I saw that river over the seasons.
The light green hue from a soft summers rain
Showers, placid, like sheets of shimmering velvet dew
Fall on the river’s course, such ripples faint
Just drops of pure delight…renewed
The soft palette hue of a late autumn’s day
Bright sunshine rays of seduction and warmth
Reflect the gold, bright crimson leis
That flutter softly down on the river’s form
A deep dark hue, bold indigo, cold
Feel winter’s breath that signals nature’s rest
Before the ice that forms a frigid blanket fold
So fresh, so clean, all senses… crest
Symphonic hues spring fresh to brew
For it is nature’s best time now to sing
From a thousand shades of freshness new
With sounds so strong, yet mellow, ring
These Rideau hues have now been etched
On my mind’s eye’s screen, God’s perfection, thrust
For all to see from such nature, stretched
Over a canvass pure on this earthly crust
(c) ShakeyJay 2005