Deadly Attacking Fish!

I just so happen to worship the sun.  Yes, I sprawl on a towel and roast myself.  I hardly ever burn, so that's my excuse to everyone who's screaming what about cancer?!?! to their computer screens.  And yes, sunscreen is my friend.

Anyways, for a few days this July one could find me out on the dock bombarding my skin with sun rays.  The problem with this is that it gets hot.  Now, typically, when I get hot, the solution is to go for a quick dip in the water.

Side note:  I should have been born with gills.  I was raised with a pool and spent summers at the Lake... swimming has always been a natural part of my life, and my parents yelling at me to get out of the water already has always punctured my summers.

I very much enjoy being in the water...even 56 degree water.  I have a couple of pictures (somewhere) of me swimming in said water.  While I was at the Lake this summer, the water was around 56...perfectly acceptable for me to climb in.

So, day one, I'm out on the dock and beginning to roast.  Time to cool off I think as I crawl over to the metal ladder. 

It looks inconspicuous enough, right?

I'm about halfway into the water when something sharp strikes my foot.  What the... I glance toward my foot just in time to see a fish darting back towards the dock.  Uhm, that's new.  This occurrence urges me out of the water.  As kids how many times did we imagine fish that would eat us?  All the time.

Or what about that time J. was screaming that the minnows were going to eat him as he floated on the inner tube...?  ...That's another story...

I content myself with having been halfway in the water.  Oh well.  So there I lay, reading and sleeping until the sun goads me into the water again.  Alright, well, the fish is probably gone by now.  I get down to the second rung again, and feel a sharp strike on my foot again. Grrr.  Stupid fish!

The psycho attacking fish!

I'm not getting in the water.  The manfriend went to wash his face and the fish came to attack. Uh, hello... Not safe...the little bugger.  I don't think so, we're not getting in that water.  As I contemplate my options, I watch him chase off a few other fish that swim by.  One fish he manages to scare off is at least 1 1/2 feet long.

No matter what, this little guy is not leaving his territory right beneath the ladder.  Too bad I don't own a fishing license so I could catch a nice little dinner. Who am I kidding?  I won't eat him.  I just want him to let me swim.

Why did he have to choose under the dock for his nest (or whatever his reason for being there)?  Why not here?

It looks perfectly nice to me.  Or what about over there?

Or even that way?

Anywhere that would allow me to swim...

Ah well.  I'll make up for my inability to swim by roasting marshmallows over the fire.  The big ones. You know, the ones that are the size of your fist to begin with and swell up to the size of your head.  Those.

After note:  Upon returning from the Lake, I talked to my brother about the fish.  Apparently they're rampant up there this year.  A lot of deck owners are pestered by little mighty fish of their own.

Lake mornings

I fell asleep on the couch last night as I was reading The Master and Margarita*. It was earlier than I'd normally go to bed, so I was surprised to wake up to sunshine. It was early, but it's one of my favorite times of day (especially at the Lake). Most people are still asleep with dreams, and everything is serene for a little while.

I quickly make myself coffee because, well, that's what mornings were made for, grab my book just in case, and head out to the dock.

It's gorgeous out here. Quiet. I can hear birds arguing different symphonies. Occasionally, a boat drives across the lake, the motor muffled by the distance. I can't even hear the waves that make the dock dance.

I have time to reflect, to think. My question from last night comes back to me: what is love?** Isn't that the age old question? Yeah, I can recite all the answers, religious to new age and the average person's opinion on the street. I'm not going to come up with something new or better. Better to just be.

And so I just sit and bask in the calm that surrounds me, the nonexistent breeze, the glasslike water. This is possibly the most revitalizing part of my trip. The sun warms me out of my sweatshirt as I watch the unyielding mountains in the distance. Absently, I have noted only whisps of almost clouds in the sky. Today promises to be the nicest one yet.

I watch as a canoe glides through the water - silent and graceful. The teenager inside is uncharistically quiet. Fishermen trolling between the mainland and island finally disrurb the solitude. It's not their voices that float across the water, but rather the strains of old country songs. It's fitting, in a way.

Once they float beyond the corner of the island, the songs are lost, and the airwaves return to the birds. One lonely sandpiper walks along the shore, his stubby body bouncing up and down as he searches for food.

Finally, the spell is broken as the unnaturally quiet teenager meets up with a friend in the middle of the lake. David, as I come to find out, is/was the silent one. A race to a campsite ensues, only to end with one friend cheating by using the outboard motor to make up for his lack of muscles (or endurance).

And with that, the day has awoke. Boats are more frequent, cars pass on the road, and the occasional bang of construction echoes across the lake. The dock squeaks in protesr as ladge wavss jostle it, and the boaf splashes its agreement. I suppose I should rouse myself and go make breakfast, but the sun is seductive and I'm contemplating rescheduling my nap for right about now.

Just give me a minute to decide...with my eyes closed.

*A really good book by Mikhail Bulgakov. You should read it.

**Stemming from my book last night. To quote: I suddenly and completely unexpectedly realized this was the woman I had loved my whole life. Naturally, this is said of a woman he just met. And she agrees that they must have loved each other forever without knowing one another. Naturally.

Disconnecting and reconnecting

The scent of nature: wood smoke, trees, moist earth, the occasional berry...
Hearing waves lap at the shore, quietly rocking you to peace in their mantra.  The wind rustling the leaves into whispered songs.  Oh yes.

This is the Lake.

Hmmm.  I can't wait.  Nights full of stars (and hopefully fireworks tonight!)  Roasting marshmallows hey, when you find something you're good at... and enjoying the tranquility that comes from removing yourself from distractions.

You can go a place for years, and still encounter something new that touches your soul... such as this:

Have you ever seen something this gorgeous?  Okay, it's more striking when not seen through a zoom lens. But either way, it's beautiful to behold.

I'm off, for the next few days, to reconnect with nature and disconnect from technology and stress.  So long!  Enjoy a few slow moments of the summer.