We met on one of our favorite lakefront benches, the one near the big, drooping, friendly & looming tree, the one fronting a deserted, totally desolate beach. There was a certain & clear emptiness suffused with a palpable gravity. The temps were mild. The lake big, bold, rocking & rolling with heavy churning waves; a very thick & ocean-like texture to the water. Two geese, flying in perfect choreographed sync, bodies, wings, long necks and heads starkly sculpted against a dark and light, cloud-filled sky.
The wind came from the North, and cut across the lake, blowing thru the trees, lightly caressing our heads and bodies. There were a few leaves and branches rattling overhead, otherwise, there was an intense quietness surrounding us. Very few folks out and about this early afternoon. It was so remarkable. So very different from the previous day. The summer-like heat & humidity, the pressing, siege-like, heat-dome-feeling a distant memory.
Our conversation was fractured, sporadic. Dotted with long periods of genial silence. Eyes open wide, gladly taking in the long, ever-expansive horizon. Silent Witnesses. Quiet Observers. Hushed Watchers. Content & Happy Seers.
