First I thought about the water. I thought about the way it glistened with the sun hitting it. I thought about the away it felt gliding over my fingers. It was soft and cool and inviting and it begged me to come closer. So I unlaced my sneakers and sat, letting the clear, cool water envelop my feet.  
Then I thought about the flower-filled wood and how every bit of it blooms only because the water quenches its thirst. The water fills it with life. I looked at the moss that grew on the rocks next to me and the little blue wildflowers that sprouted between the trees.
Next I considered the animals, each one depending on this glittering body, and how they came to the water. They came to drink, to find food, to build a home.
As I thought about the water and everything it gives oh so willingly, I though what better gift to give to thank it for these things than to give the water me?

So I placed my feet step by step on the glass stones. The streaks of sunlight lit brightened my path, pulling me deeper, and deeper. The trees above me rustled in the wind, waving as I waded in. The birds chirped their approval. They said they understood. My eyes took in the trees and the birds and the world around me. My soul saw only the water, its invitation sure, and as it touched upon my chest my heart began to pound. One beat, two beats, faster and faster. Those beats they pounded against my chest begging me to change my mind.
As I heard the wind and the birds and the trees and as I felt my own heart plead, I looked up at the sky one last time. It was a blue so deep I couldn’t believe, so deep my feet just stopped. On my back I floated, staring at that blue. Slowly it faded. When the sky streaked with red I knew that it was time. The sun itself was bidding me goodbye.
My heart didn’t pound as I let myself begin to sink. Instead it let me remember the things that had once been. Water now surrounds me and I breathe it in. I breathe deep. What better gift to give than to give the water me?