Yesterday it was beautiful, so once again, I made it over to the lake. I took my camera, but didn’t take many pictures. It’s that time, right before the trees start filling out. You have the dry branches of winter with just the first buds of leaves. Soon the green of spring will be everywhere.
My lake is not large, as I have said before, and there are homes on one side. Across the lake from my tree there are railroad tracks and behind it is a main road. Right now you can see all this, except the road, because the trees have not filled out. Still the sun sparkled across the lake like a million diamonds and the birds were singing. It was warm enough to take my shoes off and enjoy the warmth of the sun shining on them. Being barefoot is the greatest. I watched two guys catch their canoe in the shallow water under the bridge, and watched the Sunday visitors strolling by.
Sometimes when I sit there I meditate, if I can tune out the sounds around me. I try to focus on the birds or just the stillness of the water. It’s not easy with the sound of cars and people, but sometimes I can disconnect and just drift away. Sometimes, I would love to be by a lake far away from the bustle of everyday noises. Who knows what I could think of there, where my mind would travel. Maybe I could get back to the flowered path, perhaps to the the lake I’ve seen in only in quiet places in my mind. But then, maybe this is where I am supposed to be, my own place, my quiet place.
Ah well, as Scarlett O’Hara always said, “tomorrow is another day.” The lake and everything around it will be quiet, and my tree will be waiting. I’ll come back with my camera and maybe a book. If I see something new, I’ll let you know.