The Water Nymph

In the solitude of the night, the wind sang to the trees while its leaves danced and swayed to and fro, igniting soft rustling tunes as they were bounded by its sweet lullaby. The crickets, never left in the shadows, followed suite, serenading from the wee of arthropods to the bending grasses to the dozing blossoms. Much to everyone's bliss, the cumulus drifted away, giving them the spotlight as the blue moon peered down to witness and listen to their ensemble.

Tangled in the midst of Mother Nature's live orchestra, he began whistling, joining the rhythm of her symphony. His arms swung idly as he paced, causing the bucket at hand to oscillate. In each step his volume softened as he hearkened the heavy stream of a forthcoming falls; halted only when the said falls came to sight.

With great care he knelt down by the riverbed, dipped the bucket, and filled it in with cool, fresh water. He stood up and turned about, intent upon heading back to his fellow stranded companions when he heard it.

A gentle mellifluous voice that of a siren.

As he altered his gaze, his eyes beheld a woman's silhouette, playfully skipping from stone to stone, twirling and whirling all the while. Enraptured by her dulcet tone, he perched on an adjacent boulder, never taking his eyes off her. The bucket, abandoned, had spilled water on the ground, but he was mindless of that fact.

Because all he desired was right in front of him.

And despite the growing mist which threatened to conceal her radiance, he saw only her . . . and he stored it in memory.

And shameless as he was at the moment, he watched her bathe.

He watched her as she reached the narrow linn, bringing her palms close to her face whilst she drank the crystal clear cascade of water, her descant muffled behind the liquid.

He watched her then as she gathered her waist-length hair on one side and sank on her round derrière, soaking it wet with one hand, deliberately smoothing it with the other.

He watched her in amazement as she stretched one slim arm overhead, and in split second, parted the falling water with one finger before it flowed normally again.

At that moment, he realized that the woman was not from this earth.

And yet he listened to her mellow canzonetta which captivated his heart and soul.

Ecstacy did not last long for he perceived and overheard her gasp, her song coming to a stop. She had seen him, that was why.

"Wait!" He managed to say before a splash added the melody of the night, and his nymph was forever gone.

But he waited for her to emerge . . .

For hours he waited and waited and waited.

Until his eyes grew weary, and he succumbed to the blessed wash of slumber.