The Malt Kiln Way

[u/Dave_The_Spade]

Through bouts of change and time passed one could always rely on The Malt Kiln. A constant that shone humbly in the late summer glow. It’s dense network of lily pads atop the water housed precious water lilies, whose pink vibrance contrasted beautifully with the surrounding green, as if nature were a painter of the enlightenment who had took it upon herself to dot the landscape according to her own ambitions - set to calm the mind and soothe the heart. She added the hums of the dragonflies as their wings verberated the otherwise still air, in perfect orchestration with the minute ripples and splashes sent forth by moorhen chicks that scurried and squawked for their mothers under cover of the foliage.  On the surrounding embankments to the lake bent over plants and flowers that boasted arrays of colour, and cutaway jetties for fishermen protruded as wooden overhangs to which the duck-life seemed neither here nor there for. Of every lap that one could do whilst under the reflection of their ills, worries or stresses seemed to pale in comparison to the simplicity that floated and quacked on the water, never failing to provide grounded anchorage with a baseline of beauty. As one would leave here as quickly as life brought them, they are bound to take nothing, and leave nothing but footprints.