Prose: Rainbow Lake

The blue dragonflies skim across Rainbow Lake. A small one lands on my bare, wet toe. I thank him for his visit.
I had just waded into the cold mountain water and allowed it to rush energy up my spine.
Now that I’m quiet enough sitting on the sandy shore, a small bird twitters to me from a tangle of bushes nearby.
I hear the creek across the lake that feeds into it, rushing over boulders and tree roots to get here.
I too have meandered over dead tree poles placed across the rushing stream beds, in at least four places on my hike in. Not a morning stroll, but so worth the time and effort.
I watch the dragonflies in their mating dance over the small grasses along the edge of the lake. A small bluish-purple butterfly dances by my right shoulder again and again. Maybe it thinks I am an exotic flower in my crimson shirt. It’s nice to feel exotic at 63 to something. Jyoti