One evening during the week long Nature Journaling class on Burnt Island we were invited to go up into the lighthouse tower. We gathered outside the structure as the sun was going down on the other side of the island. Elaine told us some of the history and then a small group of us went into the tower with her. By the time we reached the top it was dark outside, but we were accompanied by Elaine's enthusiasm and deep knowledge of the history and significance of not only the Burnt Island light, but several others that we could see. The following poem is an attempt to capture that truly magical experience.
The top picture is one I took just after sunrise as the morning light bathed the tower. The bottom picture is of the sunset over the keeper's house just before we went into the tower.
A Visit to the Lighthouse
Spiral staircase winds upward.
Once tread upon by the keeper
as he refueled the lamp,
now it takes us,
students of the island,
to the top of the tower.
We stand together
in the company of the pulsating light,
awed by the feelings stirred
within us as we soak in
the history, the energy, the strength
of the stalwart structure.
Spiral staircase winds upward.
Once tread upon by the keeper
as he refueled the lamp,
now it takes us,
students of the island,
to the top of the tower.
We stand together
in the company of the pulsating light,
awed by the feelings stirred
within us as we soak in
the history, the energy, the strength
of the stalwart structure.
Sarah Carlson
August 3, 2011
August 3, 2011
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