Peaceful morning
There are mornings when you don’t need answers. You just need quiet. This is what Lake Paul Wallace gave me this Memorial Day weekend. I got there early, before most people were awake, and the fog was sitting low across the water. It looked so soft, gray, and gentle, as if it were trying to hush the world for a little while. The lake looked almost dreamlike, with old tree stumps rising from the water like memories that refuse to disappear. I walked about halfway across what’s left of the lake and just stopped, listening more than thinking. And honestly, it felt good just to breathe after such a hard week. The birds were already busy. Egrets stood silently near the shoreline. Red‑winged blackbirds clung to tall reeds, calling out into the morning air. Ducks glided across the water with their babies trailing behind in a perfect little line, headed toward one of the tiny islands forming in the middle of the lake. I watched them longer than I probably should have, but there was some...
