Ripples, dashing and bobbing, coalesce at the shore. They collect, and press against the natural barriers of the pond.
Push and tug to no avail. A green carpet floats just atop the surface, dancing to the ripples’ call. It sways easily, moving with the current.
Plush and green, the carpet and ripples neither cease nor bend away from their natural state of gentle motion. They wobble eternally, and their groove is that of nature’s composition.
Beneath, a flurry of branches and rocks rest, frozen in the muddy fingers of the ground. They harbor pockets of debris and small plastic gardens.
Almost natural and sweet, this growth meanders not, but stands firm against the current’s steady hand. Silhouetted in the algae’s grasp, paper and trinkets float on top of the current’s pull. Neither embracing nor resisting this tug, our waste merely exists.
Mangled Styrofoam and plastics cloud the brilliance of the natural symphony. Colorful pictures and forgotten grocery bags drift lifelessly. Viciously feeding on the current’s motion, these vagrants disturb the green flowing carpets.
Plants, rooted in the muck, pirouette to the rhythms of their world. Astute, yet easy going, they remain pliable and mellow. Unwilling to strike a pose of their own, the aquatic dancers offer themselves to the pulsating current.