Dusk slowly begins to turn to dawn, peacefully, silently around the forest. The air is fresh, the air is clean. Finally, the last star of night disapears and is unseen, although the morn. is still pretty far off. The sky was alight with beautiful colors. Different shades of reds and pinks, mixed with purples and gold filled the stretch of muted blue, which
is the sky. And, so began the dawning of a new day.

A light breeze blew ripples across the pond, creating waves so small in size. During this time, the bright golden sun isn't the sky, yet. It's just starting to rise. Clouds surround the mountain tops, as ducks go by in flight. Some ducks fly onward,some head down to the the pond, to join many loons on the waterfor a swim, and to eat fish.

It had rained during the night. There was a beautiful rainbow stretched across the sky over the pond, bearing magical colors, surrounded by a mist, that had just begun to rise, had started to lift. Rainbows never last long, however. They're maic comes and goes. But, when you see them, they're as pretty as a rose.

The sky turned into an endless canopy of saphire blue, dotted with ivory and white. The wind blew fiercely through the trees, and the grass, where various colored wildflowers grew, in clusters, and apart, some taller than others. Most the same height.

And, so the day went on. The afternoon drew near. Just like every clear day, it was breathtaking. for you have the pond, with the mountains behind it rising high. Near the pond, there is a stream, and into a river it flows. The raging river falls down a bed of rock and stone. The water is crystal clear. You can see things deep, not just near.

Slowly, slowly the sun began to set. Silence settled on the pond. A loon called out now and then. You'd hear a fish jump every once in awhile. The stars came out, one by one, marking the end of another day. It clouded over, and began to rain so hard, it poured. Lightning struck, thunder rumbled. The same fierce wind blew, that had blew in the afternoon. Only now it was stonger. Even though the wind were stronger, the storm did not last any longer, or as long as the previous n-
ight. Things would work out begining with the first light if the coming morn...

For in the morning, things were back to the way, they were before...


This poem is based on Worthly Pond. Worthly Pond is located in Maine.