Spreewald, Lübbenau, Germany
As the boat eases along, I stare into the water. Dark green with fish and guppies, nothing bigger than my hand, and slimy-bottom, green-fuzzy tree branches slide by. Stabs of sunlight flash through the trees and keep obscuring my gaze into the depths. My eyes shift slightly, and the distraction comes into focus. Trees, clouds, and blue sky reflect off the surface of the water like a mirror, an inverted view of the world above, bending with the ripples from the boat, and a mild distortion from hungry ducks passing by while fallen leaves of yellow and red float across the blue sky. What came before is still here, and what’s threatened lives here too, and what’s next is obscured by a holding on and longing and hoping. It’s all here in the water, above and below, always changing, floating by, moving forward, always forward.