HEARTBEAT

This morning while the group went out to the highway in search of goldenrod, I struck out in the exact opposite direction in search of that muffled snowy silence you sometimes find in the middle of a frozen lake. I slowly made my way down the eastern arm of the lake, an arm that seemed to reach way beyond my sight. Every once in a while I would pause to take in the sound void. It was nature's recording studio. It was during one of those pauses that I first heard it: a deep, low frequency thud like the heartbeat of some enormous animal, and then silence. Since I have lived in the city for so long, I assumed it was a musical baseline coming from one of three visible ice shacks. I took out my stop watch and timed the intervals, which turned out to be quite irregular. What was more curious though, was the sound's direction. Sometimes it seemed to come from far away and other times it seemed to come directly under my feet. I could feel the sound through my old sorrels. I was pretty sure I was safe on the ice, but it was the kind of thing that makes the back of you knees sweat. As I walked back, I thought about pollen, down feathers, and helium.