at the lake in the morning

The stranger, an experienced angler, told me about a morning that still seems like a dream to him today. It was still before sunrise when he settled quietly and unnoticed in the bushes on the bank. Around him lay a stillness that only the first hours of the day offer – the water lay calm, the mist stretched across the lake like a flowing veil, and the world seemed muted, as if it were in the last gasp of sleep. He too was half in this suspended state, somewhere between being awake and dreaming, the fishing rod in his hand, the soft lapping of the water the only sound. Then he saw her – and for a breathless moment he didn’t know whether he was still in reality or had succumbed to a vision. There she was, standing on the shore, wrapped in a simple jute dress that clung to her body like a delicate breeze, barely covering her and yet seductive in its simplicity. The first rays of sunlight were just beginning to bathe the water and the surroundings in soft gold and pink, and she seemed to have sprung from this light, more part of the landscape than the human world. He held his breath, hardly daring to move. Everything about her seemed so light, so untouched by the freshness of the morning, as if the coolness of the beginning of the day was a welcome game for her. Every gust of wind that blew the jute dress around her body seemed to give her goose bumps of pleasure, a delicate tingling sensation that he could literally feel from his position. The realization that she was wearing nothing else under this dress filled him with a reverent awe, a secret tension that made him feel like an uninvited spectator, but also like an irresistible captive. But despite the urge to retreat, he could not look away. He watched her move across the wet grass, gracefully and unhurriedly, until she knelt on the bank and bent over the water. Her reflection flickered there in the lake, shimmering and almost unreal, as if she were a figure from a dream that could disappear at any time. The fine straps of her dress slipped gently from her shoulders, a movement so light and natural that it made him believe for a heartbeat that it was all a mere figment of his imagination. But the lake seemed to return her touch, as if nature itself were playing with her, and a strange, deep tug spread through his chest. Slowly, she raised her face to the sun, closed her eyes and let the rays flood over her. He saw how the first light brushed over her skin like a warm veil, a gentle breeze that caressed every part of her. Her face, her shoulders, her hands – everything seemed so alive, so at one with her surroundings, that for a moment he was filled with wonder and quiet longing. She seemed not only to sense the morning, but to absorb it, as if she and the light itself were inseparable. He held the fishing rod with an almost trembling hand, his body forgotten in this immobility, while the light slowly penetrated the fabric of her dress, revealing the soft contours of her body. It was a moment of such innocence and yet deep desire that for a tiny moment he was ashamed to enjoy the sight as a witness.

And yet it was impossible for him to turn away. With every breath, the air around him became heavier, denser, filled with an intense, tingling tension that held him just as tightly as the sight before him. As the sun finally crested the horizon, she slowly opened her eyes and smiled into the light, an expression of pure, unadulterated joy and freedom. In that moment, he knew that she had achieved something that seemed infinitely distant to him. She stood there, alive and at one with nature, and for a brief moment he felt as if he was part of this silent magic, as if he himself was a breath of this living freedom. Later, when he told me about it, he couldn’t say whether it had really been there or whether it was just a fleeting vision of the morning and the first rays of the sun. But he remembered the feeling of deep connection and the tender, intoxicating beauty of that moment. And even if it had only been a dream, he knew that morning had changed him forever – a fleeting, sensual moment that had revealed the world to him for a heartbeat.