After a day spent working on the house, staining, painting, gardening and building, we are ready for some relaxation. There always seems to be so much to do and much work remains as we tally the must do’s, should do’s and have to do’s and place them on our virtual list. We collectively sigh, It seems as though we have barely scratched the surface as we scan the yard. Still the summer is getting away from us and a break is needed. We load the kayaks on the car, and salvage the day by traveling to the nearby lake.
John prepares the steaks while I leave in search of Saskatoon berries. I walk a long way, my efforts unrewarded, the trees stripped of their fruit, by the weekend warriors. I arrive back as my dinner is served, the taste intensified with outdoor cooking. Satiated, we pack up our kitchen and unload the kayaks for our sunset paddle.
There are blood suckers at this beach and I ask John to launch my boat to decrease my exposure. He complies and then spends several moments picking the suckers off his own skin. Several times I feel compelled to share that the blood suckers seem to prefer him. He quietly reminds me of my limited exposure in the water.
The light is at its prettiest, the beauty doubled. In awe, we break the glass of the water with our paddles. I snap pictures hoping that the camera catches some of the beauty, though just to remember it exactly as it is, I silently snap off a few pictures to store in my memory. We share the lake with a few stray ducks on their last loop around the water before calling it a day. The night creatures are stirring and soon their shift will begin.
We loop around the pond and I lazily lift my oar and watch the droplets as they land on the water, breaking the perfection. The sun turns the water gold and the rays dance on the surface creating motion. Instantly, I am transported back to my childhood days spent on lakes like this one, canoeing and mesmerized by the water. It never gets old.
The light lessens and reluctantly we leave this beauty for now. I’m hoping that we will be able to carve out more time this year for another paddle or five, though fall is fast approaching and too soon the kayaks will be stored for another season.
We arrive back at the beach and John jumps out of his kayak to pull in my boat and lessen my blood sucker contact. His chivalry is not rewarded and he is soon covered in blood suckers. We sit on the picnic bench and John picks off the suckers from his body. He separates his toes and finds the ones with the best hiding spots. I remark that I have none. I then search my memory banks and come up empty–I have never had a blood sucker on my body, its the idea of them that I abhor, how interesting! I share this with John who looks at me wryly as he pulls a particularly attached sucker from his leg.
The light has faded and in near dark we load the kayaks. The stars make their appearance on our short drive home and I think how fortunate we are to have this place so close to our home. The house welcomes us home and the short time away has us seeing the work done with fresh eyes and we are satisfied. The break allows us to appreciate the work done as opposed to the work that remains.