What you see in the pool depends
On the Light
And on how you focus your eyes.
The pool is about 4x8, the size of a piece of plywood, and about 3 inches deep. It sits on a granite deck at the edge of the escarpment, before a bench defaced, or so I thought, by two who had carved their names.
The first time, I could see the reflected silhouettes of the lacy oaks behind. And my own silhouette, if I chose to lean over.
The next time, there was enough sun to see the sandy bottom. Instead of a dark mirror, the pool was transparent and reflections were harder to see. But if I stood just so, I could catch the light on my face and, leaning over, see a bit of my features in reflection. The trees did not show up well at all in this light.
The third trip to the pool was like mastering one of those optical illusions-- the crone and the young woman or the vase and the profiles. In this light, I could easily oscillate between the sandy bottom and the reflection of the trees.
Last night, the Milky Way appeared. Scorpio and the rest of the summer constellations. In the northern sky Casseopaeia was joined by Cephus and meteors brought exclamations of delight.
Following the rainless night the pool was smaller. There was a mudflat in one sector extending out to a 10-inch rock island which earlier had been in the center of the pool but was now a part of its shoreline.
The sun was bright and standing on the tiny island I could see my reflection clearly. The earrings were gold and the words on the sweatshirt, although backwards, were easy to read. The reflected sky was blue with white clouds and the lacy oak leaves were not just silhouettes but decidedly green.
The pool was alive with life. Dozens of insects, mosquitos I guess, were flying over the surface. The bottom was not sandy after all, but a rich organic mixture. Two small feathers, floating on the surface and the submerged twigs will join the unhatched eggs, the undeveloped larvae, and the carcasses of adult insects in the succession from pool to soil as the light green lichen on its shoreline works the rock-to-soil succession.
Looking again at the bench, I relize that it was not defaced by Michael and Lori. It had been their gift to the site. "Ascendor Mentors '92."
Looking up from my writing, I discovered I was no longer alone. The teenagers from this year's work camp were in a circle. Their song began, "The time has come for parting" and ended, "It will still go on and on. Words were spoken, tears were shed. I heard a sentence, "This is a place that will stay in your heart."
by Maggie Heineman, Saturday, August 10, 1996