Water, sky and morning light, drifting fog and reeds, rocks and hills in the distance, trees turning red and yellow on the far shore...
What more does one need on the trailing edge of a day on October's middling pages? A heron or three in the shallows would be grand, perhaps a few loons calling from the center of the lake, a bald eagle overhead.
That is all. Everything else is already here.
3 comments:
Don't forget yourself! You were there!
I love that last phrase: "Everything else is already here."! Indeed!
The song of a bird or the kiss of a breeze.
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