Creative Writing: Lake Wing

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My eyes adjusted to the darkness as I sat down on a green park bench. The sun began to come up, just barely visible beneath a layer of soft gray clouds. A duck slid off the bank to join his raft in the cool water, causing ripples to break through the smooth surface of Lake Wingra. Colorful leaves danced through gusts of morning air, which gently rustled the boughs of a tree to my right. The leaves softly rustled, accompanying the symphony of bird calls and crickets echoing across the lake. Occasionally a shiny black crow broke the cool silence with his ugly call, and twice a grand heron made his exalted, almost dinosaur-like screech as he soared across the morning sky. His gigantic wings flapped audibly through the clear air, seeming to create

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