In this lonely valley nestles a large but often calm lake. Reeds puncture the glassy smooth surface and there is silence, apart from the occasional bleating of Welsh mountain sheep, or the call of a raven over the hillsides. This woman is so bird-like in stature, so graceful and so slim, that she reminds me of the heron which frequents this place. She delicately points each foot into the lake so as not to overly disturb its surface and even in the act of doing this mimics the beautiful creature. She turns to face the light, her front feeling the gentle warmth of the afternoon sun, as the cold water clasps her legs. She stands motionless, embracing these sensations as I watch her.
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