There is a large lake here.
How large, it is hard to tell.
The surface of the lake sways a little, reflecting the world.
Clouds drift high above.
Beyond them, a pale sun, like the moon, appears and disappears.
Along the distant horizon, long clouds stretch like swells.
Move closer, and they move farther away.
Around a great body of water that never flows, there is something uncanny.
Nothing can be seen. Nothing can be heard.
But something is there.
Birds live here.
A mother duck and her ducklings move across the water, leaving faint ripples behind them.
A flock of ibises with long beaks rests at the water’s edge.
On the face of a black swan floating on the water, a vivid crimson beak stands out.
A seagull splashes in the water, spreading its wings as it bathes.
A grebe dives for fish and pops up somewhere else.
A great tree stands at the water’s edge. It died a long time ago.
Hollows have formed in its trunk and around its base, where birds build nests or take shelter.
Several twisting branches hang down towards the surface of the lake.
Near the top of the tree, large herons perch, forming black silhouettes.
Sometimes a pelican flies in, beating its wings.
A large body. Round eyes.
The wind brushes across the surface of the lake.
The leaves and branches bend with a rushing sound.
It sounds like small waves.
It comes, then slowly recedes.
Sometimes a mist-like rain falls on and on, and a deep fog settles.
Or a fierce sunset, like something far away burning.
At dusk on a clear day, the sky changes from pale pink to lavender.
An indigo night arrives.
An immense number of stars, and the distant line of mountains.
Every now and then, someone comes by and rests for a while at the edge of the lake.
One person gazes at the surface of the lake.
Another leaves in a hurry.
Another idly tosses a stone into the lake.
The surface trembles, and ripples spread.
The stone slowly descends through the water.
On the lakebed, stones of different sizes gather in this way.
Over time, they settle into the sand, moss grows over them, and eventually they become part of the lake.
Sometimes a storm comes, and strong winds sweep across the water.
Heavy rain makes the lake overflow, and the reeds and grasses around it sway beneath the water.
The vast sky grows angry, and the birds disappear.
But the lake always grows quiet, little by little.
The birds return.
And the surface of the lake begins to reflect the world again.
