A Snake

We saw a snake in the water swimming by as we pushed off from shore. We sat in the boat and drifted slowly as it wriggled warily by and finally dove underwater as it approached our oar held up in the air for it to pass unhindered underneath.

There used to be snakes that swam by here periodically years ago, and turtles, more turtles than we see today. And there were legions of frogs singing from the swamps as evening gave way to night.

But such sights and such nights are rare today, as the swamps have been mostly replaced by lush, manicured lawns running down to steel sea-walls pounded into the shoreline where the cattails and lily pads used to be.

The frogs are mostly silent, save a few on the other side of the lake. And the turtles are smaller and shy. And the snakes. Well the snakes stay well away. Except for that one that lives under the logs by the side of the dock. Except for that one that just swam by.

6:06:31 PM   permalink: []   feedback:   comments: []  

Taps

After sunset, with a red glow lingering in the west, a teenager stands at the end of the dock, silhouetted by the colors above him in the sky and below him on the glass-still surface of the lake.

He brings his violin to his chin. He raises his bow. And he plays taps. With vibratto.

5:16:25 PM   permalink: []   feedback:   comments: []