It was a cold winter morning and the sky a calm, crystal blue. The lake with calmness from its core to the ripples that danced, reflected the blue sky as the sincerest of smiles. The bridge stretched its arms out across it with such grace. Every tree in the field was an enchanting white from the leaves on its branches to the roots of the trunk.
The lake had as much, possibly more, content than the land around it. From the frosty trees to the gargantuan hills. The lake nurtured the fish within her as the mountains nurtured her calm and steady waters and the deep hue became the poetic song of the light that played upon its wind-dancing ruffles.
The trees rustled in the wind and the snow came crashing down to the floor, creating a huge disturbance in the peace and tranquillity of its surroundings but more importantly, the oldest tree had finally gone. You could see the shock of all the nearby wildlife as the bright exuberant life that had once resided there had become dull and listless with the long fatigue of a weary lifestyle.
The framing of the bridge was covered with ice and it almost seemed as though that was the only thing holding it up. After many years of service, it seemed as though its time had come to an eventual but inevitable end.
If this shows us anything it's that whilst everything has its ups and its downs, everything must come to an end some day.
