As the sun sets over the lake,
A fish skillfully soars out of the water
To return again to the depths soundlessly.
The water laps against the shore
As rhythmically as a drum
Yet as quiet as a babbling brook.
As the sun slowly sinks,
Leaving only a shadow of light leering over the lake,
The lake seems to slip into silence.
Then the wind wales and the trees whip wildly.
The lake becomes restless
And the chill of the wind causes me to shiver
Yet it somehow warms me.
The wind dies down
And the lake returns to the sweet, serene scene.
The sun finally retreats behing purple mountains.
It leaves the lake in the pale light of dusk.
The sun retires completely
Leaving near darkness.
Darkness, except for the faint twinkle of
The stars above, shining down on the lake
Whose beauty will never cease.