The purest blue sharply defines the mountains, cascading down to Derwentwater.
Luxuriating in gentle sunlight.
I am cooled by pure air from the lake.
I see stark rock faces breaking the burgeoning green of May.
Ancient tracks slither, guiding shepherds, fell walkers and even day trippers.
Yet who see’s the shimmering water through dappled leafs.
As the mellow warmth calls out relax.
Whilst geese call their young to hand and idle craft bob at anchor.
Silhouettes of pleasure on steel blue Derwentwater.
At present I am taking a short break on the shores of Derwentwater in the English Lakes. The above poem? was penned yesterday, so it seemed only appropriate to use it for today’s prompt.