Photo taken from Google Images [NOT the pond I’m referring to]
I passed one of those man-made “lakes” today, you know, the ones that campuses sometimes stick into their landscaping projects in order to make themselves look more official. Cuz it’s official if there’s a pond. From a distance, it looked like one of these overgrown ponds, all brown-green and murky with yellowed grass on the sides. Nothing in particular to look at, just a decoration, albeit a sloppy one and in need of more color and life.
Then, I looked again. I don’t really know why, perhaps I was spacing out back in its general direction, but wow.
The sun. That’s the only explanation I could come up with for the extraordinary beauty that I saw. It simply brightened up the entire span of my vision, the trees, the water, the grass, the people, the sky…was the sun even out when I looked the first time? Did something in my atmosphere change, or was it a random thought that came into my mind to look for the beauty in the mundane?
Or maybe it was the wild daisies growing on the sides in an attempt to make themselves significant next to the slight slope of the hill as it descended into the water that moved with the breeze.
I can’t even explain it! Honestly. I wish I had one of those fancy high-tech DSLR cameras so I could capture the ripples and patterns and the little sparkles between the patterns that smiles in response to the sun. Those little ripples could be miniature tidal waves…the tiny people surfing those waves would be overwhelmed by the surf and go under for just a few seconds. Just enough time to panic, and just enough time to let me smile at their splashing. Air bubbles caused by trapped air pockets or by minature surfer dudes? I know what I’d pick.
It made me think of myself as that weird kid who could sit staring at the water for hours and imagine that I was a mermaid or swimming with dolphins as I listened to “Only Time” by Enya.