The Calm Where It Sank

The valley stream brushes past my ankles and flows on down. Where the current touches, a small fish passes by. In that moment, watching the fish brush over my foot and go on down as if nothing had happened, I think that I might be allowed to pass like that too. A stone slipped from under my foot, and there was the sound of it sinking into the water. Even after the surface closed, that one spot stayed strangely calm. I stood a long time looking at that calm. After the surface closed over where the stone had sunk, while that calm stood there, I listened to the current passing over the stone, glinting. I didn't move my feet for as long as that sound went on. The sun tilted little by little, and the shaded water's edge grew cold. The water still brushed past my ankles and flowed on down, and with my feet in that current, I spend a morning chasing nothing at all.