The Wetlands

Near twilight I saw the eburnean swans weaving in and out of the rushes. I watched them swim, ducking, heads and feathers wet; nonchalantly glancing at me as they plaited little paths in the still lake. Behind them sat the monarchy of trees, their holy arms outstretched, moving un-anxiously in the small wind. Above us all, suspended on a string, lay the broad, glassy expanse of mist and haze and the breath of the birds.


Sarah Alaoui said...

what a beautiful hierarchy described.

Gina said...

you really just capture the essence and meaning of nature...it's so amazing.

Adam D. Dolce said...

Moisture is the essence of wetness, and wetness is the essence of beauty.