The water glistens, the herons stand tall    
Green weeds drift by, amidst the calm, white froth  
Bugs flutter high, from black caddis to moth   
You hear it now, the herons sacred call?    
To think nature continues, come nightfall   
The herons remain, knee deep in pale broth   
The caddis fly still, moths leaving for cloth   
The Current swirls on, a festive ball    
How fortunate I am to see this place    
To witness these great things, from large to small  
For once in a lifetime, they’ll never be    
The same as they are, in this wondrous space   
Treasure these times, for soon winter does fall   
Cherish great nature, observe, let it be.