gentle day

the lake water has gentle conversation with the shore. a cloud of birds flies just over the water and turns, whips around, and is lost in the glistening of the sun on the ripples. just following, a jetliner is seen overhead due to the reflection of sunlight off its metallic body. a crowd of ducks float by, against the current, effortlessly. a duck guffaws - "whock whuack quack!" - as if his neighbor quietly made some quip regarding the guy watching from the dock; or otherwise, startled, to say, "something just touched my foot!" the distant jet, long past, now sounds. an old war plane is heard before it passes above. it hums steadily and flies over. everything keeps moving, except for me, sitting in the sun to warm myself. the water warns the shore, "I will soon replace you." two days of rain were not enough to refill the lake, but fires burn sporadically around as homeowners catch up on yard work, long behind schedule due to the burn ban, recently lifted.