Color on the Water

As I sat on Gazebo Island, I found myself focusing on the reflections painted on the surface. It’s hardly rare that the lake is a perfect reflection of the world above, after all, one’s Richmond experience is not complete if you haven’t hung your head upside down over the Commons bridge late at night to see the world go topsy turvy with two perfect versions of the same lights. But today, the reflection gave me pause. I had been complaining, rather loudly, for a few weeks that fall was late. The temperature was too high, the wind too breezy, the leaves too green, etc. The reflection on the lake proved me wrong. While certainly not entirely turned, the world around the lake is no longer a summery place. The grass is brown, where it exists at all, and pops of red and yellow foliage festoon the forested bank. This made me think about the differences in the problems that will face the lake in the coming cold weather. On the one hand, few people fertilize their lawns in winter. On the other, I doubt that will stop the University gardeners from their duty. Then there is the difference in precipitation. A large amount of water falls in Virginia during the winter, whether of the snowy or sleety variety. This will undoubtedly push what fertilizers there are on the ground directly into the lake. In addition, people will use their cars more to avoid the bite of winter air, thus increasing the air pollution that could find its way into the lake. However, something that will help the lake for a little bit, and which will cause many a student to rejoice, is the fact that at least some of the goose population will flee for warmer climes. As I watched ducks swim across the reflection of a tree, I realized it would always be this way. On the surface everything would seem perfect in the moment, but thinking deeper into what changes surrounding conditions reveals the problems that come with anything in this imperfect world. You have to look past the color on the water.