I keep thinking of Sunday.
We were up north and I just kept looking and looking in the direction of the lake. To the left is the view from the kitchen window.
First, in the morning, there were bird calls, and the trees looking so lovely as they begin to just think about undressing for their ‘night.’
Then later, as I lay face down on the dock for an hour I fell dead asleep, hypnotized perhaps by this little fellow.
We had watched each other for a good 15 minutes before I dozed off and he’s lovely is he not?
His eyes were the exact color of the lake as the lake always looks in by the shore in summer, overhung by its mantle of green.
When I woke he was gone, so I spent my time studying the little rowboat by the dock rocking in the ‘surf’
When again will we take this little craft out? Will there be – could there – ever be other such weekends in this now waning year?
I stayed on the dock just long enough to see that flash I so love when the light from the westering sun skitters along aluminum edge of the swim raft.
Soon the swim raft will come in, like the boat, and the lake will have ice deep enough to park trucks on . The dock will ring like iron and grow a cap of snow to keep it warm until that faraway spring thaw.
For now though? For now I’m going to fix on the late September morning I saw last Sunday.