The swamp waters

Down by where I work are some swampy waters to which I sometimes go, filled as they are with rushes, reeds, trees and tangled beds of roots. Fish swim in their murky depth and sometimes I can imagine that stranger, larger creatures prowl just below the surface of the waters.

Sometimes I am joined by a single solitary heron who patiently stalks the water looking for any fish who are foolish enough to pass by beneath it.

Water drips down from a grey sky creating ripples in the waters below, the reflections on the waters surface momentarily disrupted.

Its somewhere I go when I want to think, to watch a world quietly going by without a man or woman to disturb it.

And in these strange swampy waters briefly I find peace.