The waves from fellow boats hit the shore complaining about the disruption. I swing back and forth watching the water meet the rocks. I can relate to the waves. The water, clear enough to see the bottom at fifty feet out, only wants to be left in peace. I can hear the family laugh as they bond on the deck and the lawn. Is it wrong that I feel at ease here dangling my feet in the lake alone to listen to yet another complaint from the waves?
In the corner of my eye I can see the water glisten off the drying paddle boards. So content are they as they dry feet away from the very thing that gave its rider such pleasure. Does the board, like me, feel at home when it hits the water? Does it feel the power of the lake as its paddle pushes off? How peaceful must it feel to have the water gracing it’s side willing it to go forward.
A pair of jet skis pass the cabin. The girl holds onto her beau with the smile of sunshine. Their speed allows them to cut through the water like a perfectly sharpened knife filleting a fish. I watch them zoom pass and within no time I can no longer hear the motor. They grow smaller as they awaken the lake. They will come, I tell myself. And like clock work the lake’s arms once again head my way crashing into the docks and the shore. Angry in its wake, it hits my feet splashing onto the armrests of what has become my haven.
I look at the pontoon to the left. It stands on its braces safely away from the choppy waters. Just mere hours ago I sat on its arms shaded by its umbrella. I can still feel the wind hitting my back. I can still hear the conversations all around me as I try to take in every sound, every detail, every feeling the connection between the boat and the water make. I am not singularly involved in any conversation but I participate enough for them to know I speak. But, all I want to do is feel the sun kiss my shoulders and listen to the water sing.
I see an eagle launch from its perch toward the middle of the lake. Daddy, I think, you and Braddah would love the tranquility, the isolation this little cabin brings. I watch the eagle spread its wings gliding through the air. What kind of power must it feel as its flight soars him through forbidden air space? It circles over the water occasionally dipping towards the lake. His talons open as it brings fear to its prey. Oh, how powerful and majestic is this eagle. How strong and intimidating as well.
A pontoon with pink balloons can be seen in the distance. The people are donned in white. A celebratory party. They must be the lake goers who will be walking under the arch and down the aisle in the lawn seven docks from where I sit. The wind carries their laughter and happiness of the adventure of saying I Dos usually bring. I wonder if the bride, like me, had to take dopamine before stepping onto her pontoon. I wonder if the groom can feel the power of the water. May they be blessed with many happy memories and years.
There is a boat across the way. They are loud. I watch them for a bit. I can’t make out what they are saying or doing. I can, however, make out a boat with a twirling light heading their way. This must be the lake’s sheriff that my uncles were talking about. The protector of the lake ensuring its fellow humans respect the hypnosis of the lake’s water. He is the voice of the eagle and its trees. The sheriff’s boat passes me bringing the water roaring at my feet.
The bench continues to rock me over the water. The hardened seat is made comfortable with my beach towel. The chains entangled in the bark hums under the movement. Between the hums of the chains and the songs of the lake I am content and at peace. My mind swirls with ideas of how to create this peacefulness once I return to the city. Is it even possible to reach this tranquil feeling with life’s busyness? I sigh. I leap off the bench. The sand gives in to the weight of my feet hitting its surface. The water envelopes my legs. I sigh, again, because I know the peace will not come back in the city. I walk away from the water that has brought me this peace.
It is then that I realize my heart belongs to the water. xoxo