Blossom

I broke through the last layer of bushes along my freshly beaten path. The small buzz of the insects lurching throughout the trees filled my ears. The deciduous leaves picking out a beat to move to. The fresh smelling air almost always made me forget I was still in the city.

Then I gazed at it, my pond. The shimmer of my short frame broke apart as I dipped my toes into the water. This area was shielded from the heat of the sun, but the light still shone through the trees. “Do you see it now?” I asked as the boy, Ryder, took a seat next to me.

“I see the water, yes.” He replied.

“No, don’t you see the beauty of the wind?”

“I don’t see any wind,” he mumbled, confused.

“You see those ripples over the water?” I asked.

“Yes, but those are from your feet,” he stated.

“Look down there.” I pointed towards the opposite edge of the pond. “You see the way the wind pulls the ripples along the water? It works in perfect harmony with the water, never pushing to hard on it, taking only what it needs.”

We sat with only the sound of the wind between us.