A Fleeting Look
Late light soft and rich early gloaming in the potholes An invisible hand disturbs the tranquil interface of air and water ... a portent The foreshadow transforms to revelation all sound is hushed silence screams The otter pauses, a fleeting look then is gone
A few years ago, near the close of day, I caught this River Otter in the serene potholes region of Washington State. It gave but one short-lived posture of recognition and then just melted away.
~ Poem, anecdote and River Otter capture, A Fleeting Look © Jerry L. Ferrara