Even from where I was standing on the hill, I could see the water rising. The pier was already submerged beneath waves that moved across the pond and over the shore like people gathered for a summertime festival, spilling out from one small space. A voice traveled among the waves, saying watch, watch, watch.
"Watch what?" I asked, because the voice was very clear.
We take care of the land we belong to. The voice was coming from the pond. We even dispose of our trash, it said. See? A wave leaped up and splashed over the top over the blue metal garbage can that sat stranded on the pier.
Suddenly the pond swelled and surged, and the water climbed the hillside. It covered my feet as if it were swallowing them. The garbage can disappeared. "What are you doing?" I cried as the water began to soak the fibers of my jeans.
I tried to run. Then I tried to swim. The voice answered, Watch.
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