The sky darkened as night fell at Rosalie Lake.
Maybe it was the small size of the lake that seemed to be overpopulated with trouts. Maybe the rocks risen like rolling hills letting the heavenly body stretched overhead from one end of the other in a planetarium. Or maybe the dense forest enclosing the lake with a sense of peace and seclusion from the outside world. I was no longer looking in a fish bowl. I was part of the scene.
The winds that had been brushing against the water for quite some time persisted in the dark. The stirring never ceased, like a glass of water quivering in a constant hum. Either the wind itself was stirring the water or the sound of it was vibrating it, it was clear that no reflection of the stars was promised.
As the night got darker, the stars shone brighter. As if heaven dropped to earth that much closer to listen what was constantly disturbing the tranquility.