I have been sitting at my desk trying to write my column for what feels like hours.
There is a feeling of restlessness as I try to concentrate on the task at hand.
I know what it is.
I’m impatient for spring to banish winter to its summer home.
The lake has been showing soft spots over the last few days.
It seems like forever since the kayak and I sailed silently from shore to shore.
Last year, the lake did not have the same appeal it did in past years.
But that’s a personal thing.
Today, I am eager to see the ice disappear and feel the water dripping off my paddles as I stroke my way across its welcoming surface.
My lake.
I know the arrogance of claiming it as my own but that’s okay.
How many evenings at the end of a long day have I gone out — paddle, then drift, as the mood suited me.
The splash of the fish, the call of the birds.
Watched the sun setting in colours of soft gold and fiery orange.
How did I get so blessed?
Afternoons when the lake was thick with fishermen.
The sun warming my bare shoulders.
Gliding between the boats, calling a greeting along the way.
A community.
Evenings when I stayed ashore and watched the loons in their silent journey across the water.
Bobbing.
Surfacing, then bobbing again.
A flash of colour as a red-winged blackbird flapped furiously from the lake grass.
The joy of seeing a moose swim across its depths to emerge and shake on the other side.
Once upon a time, I dreamed of a place like this.
Nights when stars blazed in the indigo sky.
The croak of frogs filling the silence
As the light of a full moon washed away the shadows.
The awe in watching as the northern lights danced overhead.
There is magic here.
Laughing at the goslings as they tumbled one by one into the pond. There’s always the one that falls behind and has to be rounded up by mom or dad.
The stately grace of the sandhill cranes as they pick their way with careful deliberation across the ground.
Sitting on the dock with the dog, bare feet dangling in the cool water
As an eagle circled lazily in the mid-day sky.
A sigh escapes me as I reluctantly drag my mind back to the screen in front of me.
Patience has never been one of my better-practised virtues.
But one day soon…
