Interlude

Blue-gray foggy mist hanging over the lake like an ethereal blanket obscuring the surface of the water and making the scene look like an artist's water color or perhaps pastels, the chalk blended lightly with a finger tip, the far shore barely visible from where I sit, ancient trees rising like giants, silent sentinels, defiant, too early for the usual chatter of the birds, they still sleep, undisturbed, only one awake is me and the occasional turtle coming up to breathe, gently disturbing the placid lake surface as evidenced by a single ring, its purpose to slowly expand and dissipate noiselessly, as the orange sun has begun to peek over the horizon and that magical time is gone, those few moments between the darkness of night and the harsh light of dawn, that gray soft interlude before reality intrudes, when it seems the whole world sleeps...and the stillness and the silence is overwhelming.