The Good Gone By In Reflections

There is no difference between the sky and water, fog making it all one great backdrop of grey. I looked up and could see a dark object outlined, the thing, and its reflection, one image.  I eventually saw that it was a small boat with a standing person, but in the grey, it was one single, dark reality, one image.  I thought of reflections, the kindness of them.  The other morning, I looked out and saw a flock of geese in V-formation when it suddenly dawned on me that I was seeing their reflection, as their dark flying bodies were hidden in the dark island across the way.  It was a divine thing, knowing reality only by its reflection.  I am 67 now, and so much of my life is now a reflection, a kind remembrance of the reality of goodness.  Oh, the gift of reflection cannot be overpraised as I sit and often reflect on the good gone by.