Ming-Wai Ng
This morning while walking with a friend across the bridge on the greenway I noticed that the creek below looked particularly bewitching. It was full of alluring shadowy greens and seemed to pulse with magic. And for a moment the whole world seemed to throb with it.

We walked the almost four miles, finished talking and both climbed into our respective vehicles to head home. However, as I pulled out of the parking lot to head home, I got the inexplicable urge to go back, so I turned around, swung my car back into a parking space and fairly flew back down to the bridge.

I crept down the side underneath it and then used firmly fasted tree roots as a makeshift ladder to make my way down the embankment. I landed on firm sandy soil and picked my way from rock to rock down the middle of it.

A dragonfly painted brilliant sapphire blue flashed by carried by inky back wings and as the water moved, it sang and my heart along with it. Green growing things grew thick and bent low along the banks and the whole world was pulsing and teeming with life.

And it was good.

Oh, it was good.