Saturday, 14 July 2007
The gently tapered wings of swift lake swallows, cut
through the air like soft whispering sighs, while they
dart in and out of a clustered hovering mass of
mayflies, that drift just inches above the shimmering lake
that reflects the orange hued light of the setting sun.
On a floating dock, worn in spots by the rubbing of
moored boats, I sit in a weathered adirondack chair
with the purpose of only to relax to the rhythmic
rocking caused by small rolling waves from cruising
pleasure boats, with people waving as they pass by.
Looking down through the clear jade tinted waters
I notice the octagonal amber markings on a small box turtle
that seems to be ambling, rather than swimming through
the still water as it passes by, seemingly without a care
for anything but its mysterious unknown destination.
These moments pass fleetingly, but remain ingrained in
my mind for those times where I feel the sides pressing
in, my escape is into these simple moments, where all that
the world requires of you is to sit back and take in what
is offered, without asking for anything in return.
by James Bowie
.... Just another day ....