Lone swan on the lake
I can hear her call
But I can’t see her
She seems distraught
She keeps calling out into the thick, veil of the morning fog
I woke up this morning, started the coffee, turned on the computer and opened the curtains in the living room.
As I pulled back the curtains and looked out at the lake,
I was mesmerized by the thick fog covering the lake.
I quickly poured a cup of coffee and went outside to sit.
The air was crisp and fresh.
The air felt thick.
I seemed to be able to feel it entering my body as I inhaled.
It woke up all the parts of me that were still groggy.
My mind cleared, my eyes took in everything around me and I could breath.
I could feel my lungs reaching full capacity with each inhalation.
It felt great to be alive.
The sounds of the morning surrounded me; crickets, frogs, birds and a lone swan.
I sat on my front porch watching and listening to nothing in particular. The fog on the lake this morning was the thickest I have seen.
I couldn’t see the water at all.
As I sat staring at the fog, the swan came near the edge of the lake – right in front of where I was sitting.
The thick, white fog framed her as she moved,
moved back and forth in front of me.
She sounded desperate, calling out into the fog.
She continued to disrupt my peaceful morning sounds with her cries but at the same time, she seemed to connect with me.
I had to remain here with her.
How long did I sit there? I don’t know.
The day was beginning.
The fog was lifting.
She made one last pass in front of me, and then moved off into center of the lake.
As the fog dissipated, I began to see the water.
It was flawless.
There were reflections of the surrounding houses and trees in the lake.
As the swan cut across the lake
everything became clear.
She swam with ease and grace.
She was a peace.
I inhaled –
inhaled the desperation I had felt earlier
then forcefully exhaled.
I calmed and I was at peace too.