Lake Walk

Standing by the lake’s narrow, grassy shoreline

the winds push the rippling waves toward me,

as if, sending a lonely child home to its loved ones open arms.

The tide stops at my feet, content, then disburses to the left and right,

for the waters pay no mind to impediments in its way.

I glimpse a solitary turtle peek its head above the water’s surface.

It takes a brief breath and scans its surroundings

before submerging itself and swimming on.

It’s amazing how much swifter the turtle moves while under water,

safe from dangerous human beings and

our obnoxious mechanical inventions,

than on all fours.

Pine and oak, grasses and plants flutter in the breeze.

The warm sun overhead glistens and sparkles in the wake.

I spot three ducks drifting by.

Dunking their beaks into the depths in search of a quick meal,

they float effortlessly over the inbound waves,

seemingly undisturbed by the crazed dashing and splashing

of gas-guzzling wave runners

interrupting nature’s solitude and sublimity.

The pebbly lake trail contours

to the lake’s natural curvature.

Flowers of pink and yellow cling to the edges,

shaded by nascent growth pitched towards the watery perimeter.

From the foot bridge,

which rests in close proximity

to the adjacent noisy roadside,

I see a mother and her three small children

joyfully watching a mother duck and her three wee ducklings

meander through a calm brook.

I wonder, who is watching and admiring who?

I perform my selfless duty by

discarding three handfuls of plastics and garbage from the shoreline.

Why do humans spoil the natural world,

which we depend upon so much?

Whilst doing so I spot a baby turtle, head and legs tucked away in its shell,

sunning itself in the grass.

I wish it safe travels.

I depart temporarily refreshed,

thankful for the company that the

trees,

lake,

turtle

and ducks provided me.

In the end,

the people,

the traffic,

the commotion,

the litter

and the frantic pace of life

are only a distraction

from what really matters...

for I’d rather be a duck.