At summer's end

At summer's end, originally uploaded by olivander.

"Nothing so fair, so pure, and at the same time so large, as a lake, perchance, lies on the surface of the earth. ... It is a mirror which no stone can crack, whose quicksilver will never wear off, whose gilding Nature continually repairs; no storms, no dust, can dim its surface ever fresh; — a mirror in which all impurity presented to it sinks, swept and dusted by the sun's hazy brush — this the light dust-cloth — which retains no breath that is breathed on it, but sends its own to float as clouds high above its surface, and be reflected in its bosom still. A field of water betrays the spirit that is in the air. It is continually receiving new life and motion from above."

--H.D. Thoreau, Walden