I sit here gently rocking back and forth on the swing overlooking the massive lake, boats swaying on the dock. The tree behind me offers some shade and the leaves are dancing on it like there’s a song I am not hearing and they are.

The song is the wind. It brushes up against my skin and cools it from the sun. The ferry horn blows and I’m pulled out of this small moment, one I will look back on fondly.