River

The surface of rippling river is like a seamless sheet of hammered silver, perfectly reflecting the dome of the sky in fluid shining metal. As time passes a shining embellishment of gold spreads slowly across the cool watery surface, as the setting sun casts a rosy glow over the sky above. The stillness of the scene feels precisely and tensely balanced, the pen poised in the author’s hand: the river is framed by identical black lines formed by the bases of the rushes, silent worshippers whispering in the lightest of breezes, while a black headed gull draws a graphite line straight down above the centre of the water; a prism balanced on the minutest details. Ripples spread from tiny bubbles forming here and there, so that it appears to be raining from the clouds immortalised under the surface.

A wind is coming. The golden reflections sink and vanish before the current spills over the burnished silver, and the river reclaims its own treasures.