Walking on Water

Some time ago, I heard that a salty lake had formed in Death Valley from the rain. Only a few inches deep, it was expected to evaporate by the end of the month. The desert, a landscape that seems timeless and infinite in the way it goes on and on, was teaching us impermanence with its rare oasis. 

A body of water shrinking from the edges. When I step into the water, will the saltiness of the water let me float so that I start to walk on water? I hear the water squeak as it shrinks toward its center. It evaporates upward, leaving salt crystals. Only the sky expands on and on. Nobody told me that walking on water is an exercise in transience.