What changes in the lakes to make them appear different to me every time I see them? Is it just the combination of what makes the lake a lake? Is it the permutation of colors, birds and fishes, blades of grass, cloud cover, wind patterns and angle of sunlight? Or is it all of this along with the changing thoughts and moods which ‘make’ me?
You see it – apparently barren and deserted, almost as if it is rejecting life, in the cold months. Then, as the sun climbs up, the trees blossom, the geese return in number, the forest blossoms – life is back, in full form! Again, the waxing and waning continues, the skies darken, the trees explode in bright colours; it is time for solitude, for tranquility. And then again, like a cycle, a long period of reticent beauty. Everything changes, and still stays the same.
I am currently reading ‘Walden’ by Henry David Thoreau and his genius at description had to be shared here. Here is what he says: ” A lake is the landscape’s most beautiful and expressive feature. It is Earth’s eye; looking into which the beholder measures the depth of his own nature. The fluviatile trees next to the shore are the slender eyelashes which fringe it, and the wooded hills and cliffs around are its overhanging brows”.
The stillness of a lake always stirs up something in me. I am able to understand it a bit better now.