– a journey into the Mysteries of Water
Winding its way out into the water, like a serpent. The wooden posts mark the limits of the motion, as if to constrain the jetty from winding. Man has left his puddled imprints on the planks. Just for a moment, until they evaporate – leaving no traces, as if the path on the jetty had never been trodden.
A shifting blue, in a sprouting green. Water cannot quite settle on what shade to choose. I see it try one hue after another – like a girl pulling roll after roll of fabric from the shelves of a store. A single rock and some patches of dry yellow grass frame the velvet blue – making the outfit complete.
Swing, swing, swing, swing. From side to side, water is swinging as it flows along. Born out of the little drop channel, the spontaneous swinging flow emerges effortlessly, right out of the conditions, self-organizing. A never ending play, with unevitable ease, orchestrated by none.
Splash. Cascading water strikes the rock wall – and returns in a myriad of droplets. Another wave is on its way, ready to deliver its full force. The growing palms observe, silently. Their fractal shape suggests a kinship to the cascading spectacle. Though each motion has a time scale of its own.
With a cascade of white foam, water plunges down the fall, into the greenish pond below. Large hollow pots of stone flank the little river. Over the years, water has slowly dissolved the soft limestone rock, carving out the deep ravine. Viscous and cold, the Alp water’s secrets await to be explored.
Mysteriously, the forest is looming over the water surface. Its shadows framing the lake, blending with the evening light and the reflections from the clouds. Overseeing the scene, a pine tree catches the rays of the setting sun. An image of stillness, mysterious and a bit sad, yet peaceful.
A memory of an impact millions of years ago. A collision. And now, one of the most peaceful places on the planet. For a stone, the million years are just a moment — a moment of observing its own reflection, timeless.
Glowing, the clouds reflect the last rays of the evening sun. Tinted in pink and coral against a soft blue canvas, they fill me with awe. The dark silhouettes of the trees add to the drama in the sky. Water and light, here in yet another combination, here in yet another dance.
Like a painting, the water surface shimmers. A patchy green stretches down from above, creating a striped impression on the ever moving canvas.
The sienna coloured rock walls blend in between. Like the memory filtering an artist’s impression, the water surface has its own way of doing the same.
A soft light illuminates the sky. In its way: cotton-like clouds and a falling rain. Little drops in the sky, friends to those on the grass, distract the light, turning its path in my direction, exposing its hidden colours. Down below: a mirror completing the path, faintly perceptible, yet there.
A gentle brush, it seems, has left its traces in the sand. A group of pebbles seek to hide into the shore. So sensual. Water has just caressed their surface — taking off a little at a time. Here they lie, half hidden, half exposed, resting gently in the sand.
Whoosh. The water wave breaks joyously, cascading and foaming, noisily. The glassy towering ridge of water from the moment before is suddenly gone. Here releasing its power, all its thrust, in a joyous final motion before reaching the shore.