Things replicate themselves in front of your eyes... sky and earth harmonize; they hold hands and dance to the magical tune of the morning... twirly twirly, birds sing, as they cross the opened space between sky and water. And you can't really tell them apart, or tell whether you are looking up or down, or if perhaps the sky has fallen down to earth and has melted atop the waters, or if maybe, is the water, that had decided to climb up the sky; persuading the clouds away into sleeping a little longer in the hollow of their liquid arms... Lake and sky are the same. They are one.
"Praise him, skies above! Praise him, vapors high above the clouds! Praise him, you highest heavens, and you waters above the heavens!" Psalm 148:4