The bear hidden in the shadows of the forest, lumbers, master of his domain. The rabbit, hidden in his hole below, twitches his nose. And bluebirds twirtle and circle each other mindlessly. In all, all things are as they are, and as they are, are. It is beautiful, in a way; it is complete that each should be itself. There is a lake, calm and still save for when a fish gulps at an insect and disturbs the surface. The ripples smooth out and fade.
There is a lake in the woods with the bears and rabbits and birds and deer and porcupine, and this lake is calm, a mirror to the sky. I only mention this because it is my world, and I will be leaving it soon. I thought maybe someone should know before I go that there is a lake in the woods, and there is darkness, and there is light, and the lake is a mirror to the sky. I had to tell you before I go.
Tale Told 