Across the valley, the river flows, carrying whispers of old, shimmering sweetly like summer’s laughter. It wraps around the pebbled shores, where sunlight kisses the water, and the world sighs gently.

Beneath the surface, fish dart as I breathe in silence, feeling the ripples, like gentle hands touching my soul. Here the world is still, and the sky, oh the sky fills the canvas of life.

Every moment lingers like the fading of the songs. Nature, a painter with strokes of grace, colors my dreams.

• Joyce Johnson