A mirror.

Perfectly still water, unmoved by the passing breeze, yields reflections almost as clear as their source. Above the pool, the air heaves and sighs. Trees sway as a storm passes nearby. The temperature drops and the once-humid air settles into a cool calm.

She steps into the entrance from nowhere, as though she were a mirage. The wind plays with her hair as she watches the placid pool. The water reflects her thoughts, still, calm, peaceful.

A distant mocking bird sings a stolen song.

She settles on the end of the board, her toes gently stirring the water. The reflections ripple across the pool, then quickly return to their solemn state.

Summer bares its heart with suffocating heat. The continent struggles to breathe. Yet here, in this stillness, remains a hint of the mythical Eden, it’s reflections finding a way to make its presence known and remembered, even in the midst of most trying conditions.

We watch, mindful that from the other side of the pool it is our own reflections that are visible.