I Didn’t See Just One Loch
I saw them in pieces.
From a moving car.
From the side of the road.
From a distance that made them feel still… even when I wasn’t.
And each time, it looked a little different.
Different lochs.
Different reflections.
And still… something about them felt connected.
Like the same truth, showing up in different forms.
Not Everything Was Perfectly Clear
There was one moment where the water mirrored the land almost exactly.
Almost.
Not sharp. Not perfectly still. Not the kind of reflection you see in postcards.
There was movement.
A slight blur.
Just enough distortion to remind me that I wasn’t standing still when I saw it.
And somehow, that made it feel more honest.
It Changed Depending on Where I Stood
From one angle, it felt vast.
The mountains stretched out in a way that made everything else feel small. Quiet. Insignificant in the best possible way.
From another, the light hit the water just right—bright enough that you couldn’t look at it too long without adjusting your eyes.
And then there were moments where the land stepped in.
Fences. Roads. Boundaries.
Little reminders of all the ways we try to shape and contain something that was never meant to be held still.
The Reflection Wasn’t Separate
The reflection didn’t exist on its own.
It sat right alongside everything else—the uneven ground, the movement, the parts that didn’t feel as still or as clear.
And somehow, that made it feel more real.
The Water Didn’t Lie—But It Didn’t Show Just One Thing Either
It wasn’t one clean image.
It shifted.
It revealed something different depending on:
- where I stood
- how the light hit
- whether I was moving or still
And the more I looked at it, the harder it was to pretend there was only one version of what I was seeing.
What It Made Me Notice
We talk about “seeing ourselves clearly” like it’s one fixed thing.
Like there’s one true image we’re supposed to find and lock into place.
But what if that’s not how it works?
What if clarity isn’t about finding one perfect reflection…
What if it’s about being willing to see the different versions that show up depending on where you’re standing?
Maybe That’s the Point
The water didn’t distort.
It responded.
To light.
To movement.
To perspective.
And maybe we do the same.
From Passing By to Actually Seeing
I could’ve missed them.
Just another stretch of road. Another view. Another moment that passed by quickly if I wasn’t paying attention.
But something about them made me look twice.
And in that second look, they stopped being scenery…
And started feeling like a mirror.
And Maybe That’s the Part We Forget
That we’re not one fixed image.
Not one version.
Not one definition.
We’re a series of reflections—shifting, changing, revealing something different depending on where we’re standing when we look.