The good, the bad and the peaceful...

I love to kayak. Everything about it makes me happy. The sight of sparkling open water, the fringe of trees rising over the rocky shoreline, the scent and motion of the water, the solitude. It all fills my soul with joy. 

I was scared to take my kayak out this summer. It's a little heavy, and I was worried I might not be strong enough after my surgery and recuperation to get it in and out of my truck. I was also concerned that I might not be able to get in and out of the boat with my dandy new knee. I finally gave myself a firm talking to and hauled the kayak out from where it had been leaning against the side of the house. I displaced many spiders from their nests and dragged the little boat to my truck. I lifted the heaviest end first and rested it on the tailgate. Then I pushed from the light end and, to my delight, was able to slide it right in. I was filled with a giddy kind of triumph. I gave it a little extra push before I closed the tailgate.  A sickening popping sound ensued, and the rear glass of the pickup window shattered into a bazillion pieces. That was bad. 

I started to let this accident ruin my day. Then I got a grip and continued on with my plan, driving off with the sound of tinkling glass raining out from the ruined window. I unloaded the kayak near the boat ramp and managed to haul it to the water's edge. I got in as gracelessly as I did before my surgery. And then I shoved off, reminding myself of the rhythm of paddling. Aside from some splashing children loudly proclaiming summer joy, the lake was nearly silent. No motorboats interrupted the still surface, but a large fish splashed beside me, its scales flashing silver in the late afternoon light. 

A turtle watched me with a sharp eye but didn't relinquish his sunny spot as I passed. I stayed out as long as I could, but supper and evening chores were waiting, so I turned back. Nearing the ramp, I was delighted to see a loon as it surfaced right next to me. I stopped paddling and stayed as still and quiet as I could. The bird dove, sending up huge bubbles, then surfaced even closer. We stared at each other for a while, and I rejoiced in the entire triumphant, peaceful experience.