the view from my bicycle

I love living by the lake. I ride my bike past it every day. I take the slightly longer less inhabited road so I can look at it on my way to school. Every day it looks differently and I try to describe it in words as I pass. One day it looked like a choppy slate of steel; another day I could find no words to describe it besides what I always imagined Galadriel’s mirror to look like; a lake of liquid mercury; a black and rocky terrain; the perfect blue-green color you always imagine a lake to be; a mirror reflecting direct and pure sunlight, as if you put a mirror directly under a flashlight; today it looked like cotton candy. I don’t know how else to describe it. It looked like a rippled mirror reflecting the colors of cotton candy, baby blue and pallid orange and pink. I took a picture of it. It was so beautiful and innocent looking that it didn’t seem real. There were few clouds in the sky, too, which allowed the mountains to stand out against the pink of the horizon. It seemed like something from a child’s cartoon. I may have been my favorite form yet.