Once again, at home on the water

Early this morning we drove out of a fog and found Jackson Lake stretching in front of us, the water still and glassy and utterly unruffled. And soon we were unruffled too, despite a stressful week and some concern about how wobbly I'd be in the canoe since it's been more than a year since we've had it in the water. Within the first three or four strokes the wobbliness went away and I felt, once again, at home on the water.

Jackson Lake is located not, as you would expect, in Jackson but a few miles down the road in Oak Hill, and it's small enough for us to paddle the length and back in just two hours, a nice easy distance for our first canoe trip of the year. Only two small fishing boats were on the water this morning, so most of the time we shared the lake with birds, bugs, and butterflies. We saw a bittern and some great blue herons along with several families of Canada geese taking the gangly goslings out for a swim, and we got barked at by a dog that looked like Hopeful, unhappy that we were intruding on that particular stretch of water.

At its upper end the lake narrows and the channel wends among small brushy islands surrounded by lotuses with creamy yellow or orange buds just beginning to open. Red-winged blackbirds were everywhere, squawking and clicking and flying amongst the lotus leaves to grab insects. The lake's mirror-like surface reflected the lotuses, multiplying their magnificence.

No photos, unfortunately. I didn't take the camera, didn't want to be distracted while I got my sea-legs back. But I won't soon forget the brilliant lotus blossoms reflecting in the glassy water, or the heron rising into the air right in front of us, or the wild yellow irises blooming along the edge of one of those tiny brushy islands. I'll hold the pictures in my head as I laze away the afternoon until I slide into that unruffled sea of sleep.