The Breath of the Pond

We often mistake stillness for silence, believing that if a thing does not move, it has ceased to speak. But the earth is a restless sleeper, constantly exhaling in small, silver sighs that rise from the dark silt toward the light. These fleeting spheres are the punctuation marks of the deep, brief notes of oxygen escaping the weight of the water to find the air. They are the evidence of a life beneath the surface, a hidden rhythm that persists regardless of whether we are watching. To exist is to release these tiny, fragile vessels of ourselves into the world, letting them drift upward, unanchored and unburdened by the gravity of the mud. We are all, in our own way, rising toward the surface, hoping to catch the sun before we dissolve into the vast, shimmering blue. What is the weight of a breath when it finally meets the sky?

Tisha Clinkenbeard has captured this quiet alchemy in her image titled Water Lily with Bubbles. Does the sight of these rising pearls make you feel as though the water itself is finally exhaling?