underneath

The weather on this morning was crazy beautiful, the kind that makes you stop and pause and stand in awe. While I stood on the shoreline with my father and my kids, who were preparing their fishing poles with chunky worms, my son commented on the glass-like surface of the lake and how it seemed that we were looking at an alternate underneath world just like our own.

Yes, so it seemed.

Later I imagined the underneath world becoming visible to us top-dwellers as the thin veil of water momentarily glassed over in the stillness of the air. With no soft breeze to disturb our view, we could briefly glimpse into the world below: the clouds were stirring, the sun was making its brief appearance, and solitary birds traveled across the hazy winter sky.

I know that somewhere on a nearby shore, four figures stood on the water's edge with their fishing poles and camera and waved a silent greeting.

And we waved back.