After a spell of rain, when the lake would get filled upto its brim, oft we would there go and under those green green trees would sit and watch fish and tadpoles playing near the bank. Usually the afternoons we chose for at that time, the lake and its surroundings took the most silent serene shape. There were scarcely any human around at that time and we would have enough time to do our things like chasing tadpoles with sticks or trying to catch fish using worms hooked at the end of strings tied to twigs.
Sometimes one or two ducks would come floating to us. We would watch their white feathery forms and their quacks oft would fill the air.
Not far away , in the barn, men folk would remain busy arranging the hay or threshing the corns using ladder. The sound of ladder hitting the earth got mixed with quacks of ducks or chirps of birds who thought of adding Beauty to the afternoons simply by their cries and calls.
Sometimes a kingfisher would come and sit motionless perched on a branch of a tree, looking at the water. If any fish would come to the surface, the kingfisher would fly sharp, swooping down and picking up the struggling fish held between its legs.
After a spell of rain, that lake provided us with little wonders and how we had always taken them straight into our hearts.
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