I am watching the sun drop into the water, and every second the picture changes.
My senses are bombarded: fragrant smells of new life, earthy smells of woods, damp smells of the water. I float into a small thicket to find two spiders on a web engaged in what appears to me to be a squabble. But that's just my uneducated guess. I know nothing about the lives of spiders.
Alone bobbing in my little kayak on this expanse of water, I am reminded of how small I am. To the universe, I am just like those spiders: tiny, caught up in the mundane exchanges of daily life.
Little waves rock me, and I move with them. Little birds fly and sing a joyous evening song, grateful for another day here.
I sit in my boat, watching fish jump, watching time literally drop away like an orange ball into the water.
Once again, I feel safer, more at peace here than anywhere else on earth. A breeze of the perfect temperature caresses my face. A plane flies through the sky, a long trail of white cutting across the wispy clouds.
Frogs serenade. A beaver swims by without noticing. The beauty in this moment is dizzying - and yet I realize if I stop to write about it, it is gone.
Maybe I write about moments like these and shoot them on film in a futile effort to try to preserve them, keep them.
All I've captured are symbols on a page and various images of reflected light.
But maybe I can leave here and carry this peace around. And maybe, in putting it out there for others to enjoy, I can spread joy and love and peace. Just maybe.