Sometimes, conversations wander like fish in a clear pond—one moment there, another moment gone. Glistening reflections nudge the surface, breaking time into small, digestible pieces.
A whisper of hope, caught in a net of spinning currents...
Look at the greens and blues, bright fray along the water line. Do you recall the breath of a purling brook? When you caught the sun stitching shadows into the drift?
The pulse of time is marked not by clocks but by these fleeting moments sliced like thin slices of lemon in the glimmer of day.
When we gripped those silvery scales, surrounded by swirls of laughter, was it simply fish we caught, or was there a freedom, a glimmer of connection too?
ACTIVITY: Skim your thoughts along the surface. Capture with your mind's net something you've held precious—an echo of warmth or whispers of hopes for tomorrow...