At the lake, everything could be compartmentalized into nonexistence. All the stresses of the everyday, all the pressures of relating to people. Here, there was peace.
The lake is relaxing. Hopefully, by this summer I will know how to swim pretty well. I’ve heard that swimming is a good way to let off stress. Which to be honest I feel like I need. Sometimes it feels hard to handle. I don’t even know why I’m typing this.
Ahh, a lake reminds me of a peaceful serene image of a gently shining sun sparkling over the rippling water with a perfectly placed rustic bench to on the bank where one may sit quietly and fish; birds cheerfully chirping their song, with a gentle breeze singing through the leaves of the trees and wild flowers of the tall grasses, flowing gently; all of it reminding you of the beauty of life and thanking God for it all. Makes me want to paint another picture if only I could capture the beauty of it all with acrylics and a paintbrush. But even with every careful stroke one can not master the mimicry of God’s glorious creation.
She folded her knees to her chest and stared out onto the water. A lake was a fascinating body of water. Because there was in fact a limit to it. There was an end to the expanse. Even if you can’t see it.
I love going to the lake with my parents and my family grandparents my uncle and my aunts I want to learn to swim but I also want to learn CPR I can’t wait to
Entró al lago con calma, un pie detras del otro. Sumergió los tobillos y comenzó a andar bañando sus pantorrilas, las corvas, los muslos. Cuando el agua rozó sus genitales se estremeció. Frente a sus ojos los amigos le animaban, daban gritos de alegría… de pronto uno de ellos lanzó un grito de terror y lo perdió de vista.
The lake was so calm in the morning. It was almost as if the world had stopped at the lake. Mist was rising off of the water. It was so peaceful I could almost forget why I was here. I could almost forget him.
it shimmered as only old dreams shimmer, in the secret places of a life nearly over
and the whipping wind tossed little white lips of froth over themselves, rhythmically, in sequence toward the shore
birds swooped from the sky, catching the sun on the way down, flashes of white in descent
and it smelled like a breeze that is the whole infinity of summer drifting from wherever youth comes from to wherever we box it away and visit it only in memories of water, lilacs, grass pollen, algae, the cool smell of green in the leaves
he kept this place near his chest, and climbed into it sometimes, on long dark clacking train rides from the cold and doubt
I almost booked that little cabin, right with its own little personal pool, an almost puddle in the rocks where we could have spent days splashing about together in the warmest summer since 1965. But he never called, and didn’t come ’til weeks later. I kept my mouth shut, as I always did.
I loved him, you see.
I love the lake. it sits calmly by the side of the broadway – I feel it’s cool wind blowing across my face, again and again, touching me like my mother, oh, how she used to hug me and tell me that everything was going to be alright. I’ll be needing that now, I murmur as I stand up.
“Lake effect snow.” That is what you told me when you walked into the blizzard, a blizzard not made of fat snowflakes, but hard ice pellets and howling wind.
Your eyes are no longer on me. Your words do not reach my ears. Our skin has no chance at accidental contact for all the distance in the storm between us.
In that moment I froze over and forgot our tune. But with fondness I still think of you often.
You can’t touch it, but in the deepest reaches this thing I hold never seems to harden.
Dennis practically swan dove into the lake, and when he emerged, he was carrying a long-stemmed flower clenched between his teeth. We didn’t know what to make of it. His hair shone like silver in the sparse morning light, and he clambered onto the rocky shore, dropping the plant and panting like a dog.
At the lake, everything could be compartmentalized into nonexistence. All the stresses of the everyday, all the pressures of relating to people. Here, there was peace.
The lake is relaxing. Hopefully, by this summer I will know how to swim pretty well. I’ve heard that swimming is a good way to let off stress. Which to be honest I feel like I need. Sometimes it feels hard to handle. I don’t even know why I’m typing this.
Ahh, a lake reminds me of a peaceful serene image of a gently shining sun sparkling over the rippling water with a perfectly placed rustic bench to on the bank where one may sit quietly and fish; birds cheerfully chirping their song, with a gentle breeze singing through the leaves of the trees and wild flowers of the tall grasses, flowing gently; all of it reminding you of the beauty of life and thanking God for it all. Makes me want to paint another picture if only I could capture the beauty of it all with acrylics and a paintbrush. But even with every careful stroke one can not master the mimicry of God’s glorious creation.
She folded her knees to her chest and stared out onto the water. A lake was a fascinating body of water. Because there was in fact a limit to it. There was an end to the expanse. Even if you can’t see it.
I love going to the lake with my parents and my family grandparents my uncle and my aunts I want to learn to swim but I also want to learn CPR I can’t wait to
Entró al lago con calma, un pie detras del otro. Sumergió los tobillos y comenzó a andar bañando sus pantorrilas, las corvas, los muslos. Cuando el agua rozó sus genitales se estremeció. Frente a sus ojos los amigos le animaban, daban gritos de alegría… de pronto uno de ellos lanzó un grito de terror y lo perdió de vista.
going to the lake is very fun. especialy going to lake martin where there is the smith mountain fire tower to climb and wakboard and tube.
The lake was so calm in the morning. It was almost as if the world had stopped at the lake. Mist was rising off of the water. It was so peaceful I could almost forget why I was here. I could almost forget him.
it shimmered as only old dreams shimmer, in the secret places of a life nearly over
and the whipping wind tossed little white lips of froth over themselves, rhythmically, in sequence toward the shore
birds swooped from the sky, catching the sun on the way down, flashes of white in descent
and it smelled like a breeze that is the whole infinity of summer drifting from wherever youth comes from to wherever we box it away and visit it only in memories of water, lilacs, grass pollen, algae, the cool smell of green in the leaves
he kept this place near his chest, and climbed into it sometimes, on long dark clacking train rides from the cold and doubt
I almost booked that little cabin, right with its own little personal pool, an almost puddle in the rocks where we could have spent days splashing about together in the warmest summer since 1965. But he never called, and didn’t come ’til weeks later. I kept my mouth shut, as I always did.
I loved him, you see.
I love the lake. it sits calmly by the side of the broadway – I feel it’s cool wind blowing across my face, again and again, touching me like my mother, oh, how she used to hug me and tell me that everything was going to be alright. I’ll be needing that now, I murmur as I stand up.
“Lake effect snow.” That is what you told me when you walked into the blizzard, a blizzard not made of fat snowflakes, but hard ice pellets and howling wind.
Your eyes are no longer on me. Your words do not reach my ears. Our skin has no chance at accidental contact for all the distance in the storm between us.
In that moment I froze over and forgot our tune. But with fondness I still think of you often.
You can’t touch it, but in the deepest reaches this thing I hold never seems to harden.
Dennis practically swan dove into the lake, and when he emerged, he was carrying a long-stemmed flower clenched between his teeth. We didn’t know what to make of it. His hair shone like silver in the sparse morning light, and he clambered onto the rocky shore, dropping the plant and panting like a dog.
“Where the hell did you get that flower?”
Dennis grinned. “The mermaid gave it to me!”
His mother laughed. His father did not.