Brooklyn - Taylor Swift

Part 44

The morning sun continues its ascent, casting a warm golden glow that deepens the colours around me as I blink, not remembering how I got here but knowing exactly where here is.

Now fully bathed in daylight, the lake transforms into a kaleidoscope of blues, reflecting the sky's evolving palette. I watch as a family of ducks glides gracefully across the water, leaving a trail of miniature waves in their wake. It's so peaceful I can't even bring myself to scowl at the family, knowing they're the same bloody ducks that had me driving into the lake all those years ago. Or are they? How long do ducks live for anyway? It can't be the same ducks; they must be dead. But I recognise those ducks; they're definitely the same ones. The ring leader has the exact same flash of purple over its green head as the one that baited me into the lake.

The air, no longer just crisp but now kissed by the sun's warmth, carries a medley of scents that weave together seamlessly. Wildflowers release their fragrances into the air, creating a delicate perfume that mingles with the invigorating scent of the lake. It's a heady concoction, the essence of summer captured in every breath. I always said autumn was my favourite season, but it's days like this that have me loving summer. But is it summer? I thought it was still winter. I don't understand.

As I walk along the shoreline, the dewy grass releases its moisture underfoot, a cool and refreshing sensation. Where are my shoes? I never leave the house without them on. Not since I had to get thirteen stitches along the sole of my foot after stepping on a rather sharp rock along these very shores when I was fifteen.

The blades bend beneath the weight of droplets, and a subtle fragrance of earth rises with each step. The contrast between the softness of the grass and the occasional crunch of a pebble beneath my feet adds a tactile richness to the experience.

The water, I dangle my feet off the end of the dock, shifts in temperature, a gradient of sensations against my skin. It starts as a cool embrace at my toes, gradually warming as I push my whole foot in. It's nothing like the icy pool I jumped into on New Year's Day, which was just a little more than a week ago, wasn't it? How much time has passed?

Overhead, the symphony of birdcalls continues, each species contributing its unique melody to the chorus. I spot a kingfisher darting across the water's surface, its rapid flight accompanied by the distinctive splash as it catches its prey. We don't get kingfishers at the lake, do we? I've only seen one once, and that was when we took Cora to the zoo. So why is there one here now?

The birdsong intertwines with the rustle of leaves in the breeze, creating a harmonious soundtrack that envelops me in the immersive embrace of nature's music. Maybe our next album should be more nature-focused. Incorporate more natural sounds. No, we would never do that; it's not our style. Why would I even consider that?

I sit on the dock, my fingers trailing in the water, disrupting its mirrored surface. The sunlight, now filtered through the leaves of overhanging trees, creates dappling patterns that dance around me.

The world feels suspended in time, and I become attuned to the minutiae—the delicate intricacies of a dragonfly's wings, the gentle hum of bees among the flowers, and the subtle shifts in the lake's surface as it responds to the ever-changing breeze.

I sit by the water's edge, my eyes closed, enveloped in the serenity of the summer morning. The gentle lapping of the lake, the harmonious symphony of birdsong, and the warm caress of sunlight create a sanctuary of peace. I'm lost in the beauty of the moment, relishing the solitude that allows me to connect with nature on an intimate level.

It's never this quiet here.

The twins are always yelling or laughing. Cara is constantly running around with a screaming James, bickering over something or another. Tay usually tries to hide her laughs by my side. Why is it so quiet today?