Reflections
It’s funny how the reflections of the scenery around you are so clear when you are at a lake that is still and shiny as glass. The imagery and perfection of those reflections mirror exactly what is there. That’s why I was quite surprised when I looked directly into the lake, expecting to see my reflection, but didn’t. Instead, I saw someone else.
I quickly looked behind me to see if someone was standing there and whose reflection it was. But there was no one there. It was just me and the lake. I am well versed enough to know the Greek myth of Echo and Narcissus and a number of folktales where people see the moon’s reflection in a body of water and think that it is caught in a lake. But this image I saw was not a reflection of reality. This was someone totally different. In fact, it was not someone I recognized.
For one thing, he had long golden hair, bright blue eyes, and pointed ears. I may have changed a little as I grew older, but I’m sure I don’t have any of those attributes. Even knowing that, I checked my hair and ears just to make sure.
It seemed only reasonable that I should talk to that reflection if that’s what it was.
“Who are you?” I asked.
At first, there was no response, but I did notice a questioning look on his face as if he was considering an answer.
“I was about to ask you the same question,” was his slow response. “In fact, I’m not sure what I should call myself to you. Where are we?”
I named the lake and felt it important to also name the planet, just in case he was from somewhere else. Which it turned out he was.
“Earth?” he pondered. “I’ve heard of that place. Isn’t that in a galaxy called Milky Way? We learned about that in our universal geographical upload.”
Now my curiosity was aroused. “Where are you?” was my question.
“I’m not sure if your primitive species know of it. I’m from the third planet in the bi-solar system of Santur, in the galaxy called Dyslexia.”
“How is it that you’re here?” I asked.
“We’re testing out our new ultra video system that allows us to communicate with other places. You are the first contact we’ve made.”
I was going to ask him more when all of a sudden, there was a ripple in the water as a cloud passed overhead, and all that was left was my reflection in the lake.
Did it really happen? Yes, it did, but I was so enthralled by this encounter it never dawned on me to pull out my iPhone and take a picture. Who’s going to believe me without proof?
I’ve been back to that lake on numerous occasions and have never been able to duplicate that experience. I wish I had gotten his name or at least a number to call.
