Easy Like Sunday Morning

There is fog on the river. It travels downstream as if somehow connected to the water. Vapors are rising, exuding through the pores of the earth.

I’m walking along the riverbank as the sun is slowly rising behind me. From time to time I turn and watch the play of light through the trees and the fog. There’s nobody around.

The rays of sunlight are perfectly drawn in the darkness of this early October morning. Spiders are silently weaving their ethereal webs that will disappear by the end of the morning. Birds are singing from all corners of the forest.

I stand still and all this light, sound, and fog are passing by me and through me.