Observing Our Lake

Sue Fraser (2019)

Those who spend time sitting silent
from the dawning through to twilight
see the changing play of colours
as the sun moves through the sky.

Every hour the water changes,
from the black of night-time dangers
to translucent palest aqua that reveals the
silver fry.

Daybreak shows the pinks reflected on the
water unexpected
in their myriad of shades from deep
magenta to a blush.
Sunset throws a fiery orange and the birds
then cease to forage
winging darkly to their perches as the last
rays dim the brush.

Our lake can be still and tranquil, leaving
watchers feeling thankful for a quiet
time of respite from their very busy day.
Other times she shows her fury as the wind
tears at her during
those ferocious storms that whip her roiling
surface to a spray.

Over years of walking by her I have watched
the algae mire her
to a green primordial soup that smells of
musty, slow decay.
Dearth of rain up in her catchment causes
waterhole detachment
leaving fish trapped lacking oxygen to slowly
fade away.

Then the rain falls to refresh her, to release
the mounting pressure on the
sandbar at her exit to the restless open sea.

All the death that lurks within her then is
flushed, and she begins her
transformation to a waterway, alive and
clean and free.

July 13, 2019