Environmental Writing Freewrite

Morning mist rises off the water's surface and swirls around the whiteness and greyness of the standing wood. The water, giving rise to this spooky show seems solid and still. There is no line between this smoke and sky, a hazy outline of wings only briefly stays to remind us of the world above. I crouch, motionless gazing at the tiny picket row of green between my mind and the cauldron's edge. The stalks stand askew as if mimicking the rows of trees without branches, and the color of the reeds feels more comfortable to me than the vast grey. 

Interrupting these teetering rows is a touch not of green, not of grey, but a translucent light brown. I nudge my toes to the squishy edge to identify this strange figure among the blades, and too soon I realize it isn't moving, but was surely once alive. Tiny armadillo like plates and gussets find their way to create what seems to be an alien armor - but hollow within. 

The emptiness, perhaps, reminds us of something that has escaped to a new world, a new form. Crawled out of the too-still mirror water, this creature pushed and escaped its shell with new wings to explore the unknown world of sky and grey. Like clothes discarded in haste or eagerness, this small brown skin calls back to a life under the surface, a life unknown to us no matter how hard we try to seek it.