The evening sunlight skips across the ripples of the lake
dancing on its ridges as it hurries by,
pausing impatiently to allow boats to pass,
before searching ever onwards,
chasing down the dark
in a never ending game of hide and seek.
Shadows hide round every corner,
little pockets of night that got left behind.
Waiting for the light to pass
so they can slip unnoticed back into the dark.
The Quay waits with unquestioning obedience
for the last boats to settle into their moorings.
The unsuccessful fisherman begrudgingly packs away.
He will be back again to try his luck tomorrow.
The last glimmer of sunlight flickers briefly on the water
before being totally extinguished by the night.
Water fowl have lowered their voices to a whisper.
The ripples on the water have now settled down for the night,
motionless, the surface occasionally broken by a fish.
Mocking the retreating angler.
The night is still and crystal clear.
The moon lays down a soft blanket over the water
as it quietly reflects upon the day