The Fascination Game

You know where I was. 
You know what I was doing.
Raindrops were falling on my favorite pond.
I was standing on the shores in fascination, watching the circle game.
And then the sun came, and made the waters sparkle and shine. . . .

Story time: I ran into a lady there with a little girl (who was totally chill) on her shoulders. They did not have an umbrella. It had just rained, hard, and they were coming out of the Barrens, totally soaked.
"I guess we picked the wrong day for a walk," the mother said, ruefully. 
"No, you picked the right day. It's always lovely when it rains in the Barrens," I said back; "In fact, I was HOPING it would rain while I was here." 
We exchanged big smiles.

The lady asked what I was finding to photograph today. This is a question I love to answer. I will never mock somebody for asking, even if it seems obvious. "Raindrop patterns on the water," I said. I told her that there are usually turtles out on the far end of the pond, but not today, because it wasn't sunny enough yet.

She told me that a few days ago, they saw the most, and biggest tadpoles ever. Her daughter nodded. We ladies were like two children swapping stories, in which no names are given, but the most important information is exchanged:

How big are the tadpoles here? 
How much do you love the rain?

My song is the Human League, with (Keep Feeling) Fascination.


You can see why I am happy when this pond is full, and unhappy when it is dry. The water here is more than water to me. Its surface is a canvas upon which nature writes beautiful things, and I watch, and I try to read and understand, and I am deeply happy, and so I am inspired to make things, too.