Harbor visit prompts thoughts of all, nothing

To the Editor:

Crow call sharply drifts over forest wall, between the nothing and the all.

All, or nothing at all. It is remindful of Aristotle’s “law of the excluded middle,” which states that everything is either “A,” or “Not A.” But Aristotle, even considering the shorter life spans of the time, must at some point have come to the realization as his philosophy matured that not everything is either black or white, but inclusive of many shades of grey between.

In terms of human ability, the unseen world far outweighs the seen. Analysis using spectrometers hints of certain hues before the beginning of infrared, and far beyond ultraviolet.

Such things do I ponder as I sit on my favorite perch around the bend at Black River Harbor. Aristotelian logic aside, I enjoy the vivid sunset, notice that big ore hauler far away on the horizon, and send off the fishing boats headed out for a little night rigging. My dog chases the waves, forth and back and forth, as they wash in skipping stones and driftwood.

I speculate on what might lie across over on the far shore. Oh, I know there is Isle Royale, Thunder Bay and Ontario, Canada. But what about the really far shore? Is there all, or nothing at all, or everything before, between and beyond? I guess that one must be summoned hence to find out. Hopefully all of the dogs I have owned, or rather owned me, will be there, watching and waiting. Those goofy, magnificent bearers of unconditional love.

Stars are forming above. I pack up my thoughts and make my way past the breakwater back to the suspension bridge — the new one. The bridge is a fine example of civil engineering, but the old one was more fun. You could get it to bounce and sway and scare little kids and unsuspecting first dates.

As I drive homeward with my canine buddy, the rhythm of the tires on the pavement gives promise that waiting for us is an understanding woman and a song sung at twilight, to spend a musing moment gazing at the firelight. White birch burning, and bed softly bidding me to come and lay me low, to wait upon the morning.

At least on this side of the big water, that is all I need to know until my final summons.

Thomas Ylsabeck

Ironwood