In my mind's eye I could see a reed swaying in the water, as the image panned out the seed head was being buffeted by the wind and a big black bird swooped down and took some seed.
Then I looked under the water and saw that the reed was being held up in the water and there were tiny air bubbles and specs of nutrients feeding and supporting the reed.
Deeper still, looking underground the reed was deeply rooted, immovable and the roots were anchored in the pebbles and rocks and on those stones were written words like the fossilised seeds and bubbles in amber that tell a story. These words were the memories of things which have built a strength in the reed over its life time.
Then I looked under the water and saw that the reed was being held up in the water and there were tiny air bubbles and specs of nutrients feeding and supporting the reed.
Deeper still, looking underground the reed was deeply rooted, immovable and the roots were anchored in the pebbles and rocks and on those stones were written words like the fossilised seeds and bubbles in amber that tell a story. These words were the memories of things which have built a strength in the reed over its life time.