The great lake

By | Art & Design
Photo © Davidmartyn

By Amaya Hinton-Mellor, age 12

By Amaya Hinton-Mellor, age 12 years old

I saunter carefree until I reach an avenue of trees; tall, shady in cool green. They sway calmly from side to side, protecting me from the sun’s spotlight. The smell of Earth lingers in the air, whilst a bird I’m unable to describe swoops out of nowhere. Light filters through the top of the branches as I sense the aroma of composting leaves and breathe in the fresh, clean air.

I am at ease, relieved as I look ahead until eventually I reach the end of the woods. A lake comes into view, pristine water shining like a million crystals and surrounded by lush green forests, shrubs, bright flowers and a water-reflecting sun. A fish breaks the surface triggering ripples occurring outwards. The trees on the far side mirror the lake and are silhouetted contrasted by the pebbled ground. The lake is deserted however far from being remote, as its wilderness is surrounded by dragonflies, fish, bees and wild geese.

I lay down by the edge of the water and peer into the depths of eternity. The water is soft and still and almost translucent. I am unable to hold myself any longer, I strip into my swimming costume and dive into the refreshing waters, my body full of energy and power, glistening green in the spring light, as I’m upheld by my daydreams. I leap downward so my head is pushed under into the coolness of the water. I immerse myself in the element that feels like a cold bath. I swim its luxurious depths, my body moving serenely and silently.

Then the world changed. From the first person to the second I became she, the observer. The lake is now the sea. For what is the boundary of shore if it is possibly the edge of our mind?

She plowed, stroke after stroke, gliding, swerving, through the fast current. “I’m almost there,” she told herself. Another minute without air would be challenging, almost certain she would pass out. However she had to keep going. By now she was in need of oxygen. She twisted her face upwards, out of the water, to grab a little life into her, however as she did so, something pulled her. A powerful force of energy dragging her deep, deep down into the heart of the sea. At the corner of her eye a bed of foam glistened and an eerie sensation grew inside her.

She awoke with a start. Light shone through the gap in her curtains and the room gleamed with a dazzling whiteness. She sat up, feeling delirious between the state of waking and sleeping. Had her experience of the last night been a dream of fantasy, or was her ‘water-filled mind’ another layer of reality?

Her mind moved on yet she still felt dazed as she clambered out of bed and put on her slippers. Her room felt confined in particles as the beaming shards of light transformed her house dust into a dancing, reflective golden dust storm. She opened her window as the sea air swept through it.

The water spirit had woven its spell. The Great Lake had spoken.


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