All at once, all was still.
The water smooth, reflecting
Silky rolled beneath my paddle
As we came to Chapman landing.
Tall cottonwoods upon the right hand
Shone in sunlight and in the stream —
Upward downward from the island,
Leaves rippling softly as in a dream.
The pilings stood eerie and still
Where they used to unload the timber —
Brought down from dark Vernonian hills —
With long gone noise, hardly remembered.
We turned to one another and spoke
‘Did you suddenly feel what I feel here?’
(Echoing across the water words woke
The dark and pitchy timber piers)
‘Here I feel a deep, dark cool
Meet a warm soft sun in a magic pool,
And the summer evening softly breath
Where the landing lies by the island trees.’