There is a type of moment in my life which occurs every so often in which I wish I could be completely smothered in. The crisp winter air piercing my insides every time I breathe; the soft warmth of coffee on both my dry lips and frost-kissed fingertips. My body, caressed in layers of wool and cotton, bundled with acute wakefulness and slight discomfort of impatience. Then it happens. The incessant honking overwhelms the conversations of whispering waterfowl and the powerful flapping of their feathered appendages stirs the air. As they swoop towards the glassy water with their long, black necks directing, their mirrored brothers greet them. They disturb the quiet lake by breaking the water, splashing violently upwards to set their landing. They nestle and settle into the picturesque view as my mind does the same. The observance of geese flocking and enjoying their morning brunch. This is where my mind stops thinking about the mechanisms of my decisions and instead, my soul blankets it to bed just long enough for me to enjoy this moment of simplicity.
