yesterday little dell was the color of black pearls.
deep, dark gray with a shimmering iridescence that pulled my eyes so far in that glitter remained on my eyelashes when I finally looked away.
there was mystery there, an unknowingness, a teasing play to the slightly rippling surface which reflected the roiling sky above.
I love this color, this metallic, mystical, charcoal gray that swirls with secrets and untold depths.
even more to my liking, it was only an illusion, for as I moved down the mountain and closer to the basin everything changed, and the water became once again green and stormy and dense.
back in the days when I rode a bike to get from my house to my friends' homes to the cafe for a milkshake and fries, I fell in love with a song that ended with these words, which come to mind as I stare at these pearls and think of the depths of that reservoir:
breathe deep the gathering gloom
watch lights fade from every room
bed sitter people look back and lament
another day's useless energy is spent
impassioned lovers wrestle as one
lonely man cries for love and has none
new mother picks up and suckles her son
senior citizens wish they were young
cold-hearted orb that rules the night
removes the colors from our sight
red is grey and yellow white
but we decide which is right
and which is an illusion . . .
~ graeme edge