whiskey river nails it

Good old whiskey river:

Witness
Sometimes the mountain
is hidden from me in veils
of cloud, sometimes
I am hidden from the mountain
in veils of inattention, apathy, fatigue,
when I forget or refuse to go
down to the shore or a few yards
up the road, on a clear day,
to reconfirm
that witnessing presence.
– Denise Levertov

The photo above was from my walk today, through the forest and meadows near my home on Bowen Island.