At my cottage in Dunnville, Ontario, Canada I sat indoors, reading a book, watching out at the magical beauty of Lake Erie. Even in the month of November it was an incredibly sunny day. The trillions of sunbeams reflecting on the tiny waves sent back trillions of tiny diamonds. They blinded me. As if it was a festival of lights. Similar to Diwali.
I could hear the cacophony in my neighbor's house. He's an American on American holidays and his house is full of visitors. Today is American Thanksgiving and I can hear the voices of many children and a few adults from my neighbor's house.
In summer he stands on a stone on the shore to stand on guard for the children swimming. But, now in winter the water is too cold to swim. The stone on the shore is empty.
In the following moment as I raise my eyes from the book, I see my neighbor standing on the familiar stone, flapping his arms like the mammoth wings of a Canadian goose his legs jumping up and down in excitement and his mouth open in the shape of an egg. Obviously, he is screaming. When I let my eyes wander further in the distance I saw a small figure, dark against the bright sunshine. Possibly of a three year old boy. He looked calm and collected no care in the world. He was getting deeper in the water step by step, unhurried, confident steps, since he had no care in the world obviously he was taken in by the breathtaking landscape, millions of sunbeams reflecting on tiny waves creating millions of diamonds, and beyond that was the line of the horizon where the blue-white water met the blue-white sky in a dark-blue line. The line in the horizon looked fragile and vulnerable, but the boy knew better, he knew when the sun sets in the west the line of the horizon turns strong and bold enough to carry the weight of the entire sun upon it's back, till the sun tilts further and drowns in the water beyond the horizon, that's why the boy had no fear about the strength of the line in the horizon. He took a few more steps with ease, since he had no care in the world, he had no fear, and he knew what would happen to him.
My neighbor was still flapping arms jumping on his feet, shouting through his '0' shaped mouth. Now the boy's head rested on the fragile and vulnerable line in the horizon. The boy took notice of that, but he had no fear in his heart, he knew what would happen next, his head would set beyond the horizon, the way the sun sets, only to rise up tomorrow morning. The boy always played with the sun, which like a faithful friend never disappointed him. The sun rose every morning in the east and set every evening in the west. Better than any other friend he had, who promised him so many other things, but often didn't keep their words. That's why he had no fear in resting his head on the horizon in the west and took a few more calm steps just like his best friend the sun and let himself go completely under water.
My eyes returned to my neighbor. He still stood on the familiar stone, like a statue, his toes gripping the stone, as still as the stone, his arms dangling limp beside his bloated body, like two limp branches, his mouth closed lips relaxed, no more crinkled in the shape of an egg. The water surface was smooth and calm. The boy had set in the west to play with his best-friend the sun. Tomorrow morning only one friend would rise, not the other. Still, trusting a friend and dying, might be better than living a life with no trust at all.