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