I wait to be moved. The pond before me teems with life. Frogs sunning themselves await the occasional flying insect. The lush vegetation growing from the bottom is home to many. Newts float to the surface for a breath of air.
Pollywogs scurry about as fish do what fish do.
The pond is a universe unto itself. Pollywogs, frogs, newts and fish. I wait to be moved. In the early evening sky above ravens dance in the wind. Hawks glide on unseen currants.