The River Rat

The River Rat

Monday, May 23, 2016

Maiden Voyage

I loaded the River Rat on the truck this morning as a hawk circled overhead, gliding on unseen currents of air, circling once then away, lost beyond trees. Tied my craft snugly on and drove out to the lake. A flurry of family as we reach the cottage - comings and goings, hugs and laughter. Breakfast, second breakfasts and one last coffee. Dispersing then - the younger set to kick a soccer ball on the beach, dogs discouraged from joining in to eventually find their own resting place in sun or shade. Noses lift now and again to consider a new scent arriving on the warm breeze, then settling back to resume the chase in their dreams.

A group over at the docks, surveying the damage post ice out, and considering options for repair. Attempts and progress, and reconsidering. The brothers working together, all ideas considered. Grateful for the companionship of each other, of the shared experience on this land that has been loved by this family for four generations now.  A part of each of them.

Another group cleaning up in the small comfortable cottage where kitchen meets dining, and sleeping, and sitting and fireplace. The love that the cottage has felt over the generations has seeped into the rounded logs of the building itself so that upon entering, a guest is greeted and warmly embraced by it, and is at once made to feel at home and at ease.

The whispered conversations on this day reflect concern and caring; there is courage needed to face the demons that come but in this place the strength can be found. The trees provide the grounding and the shelter, the stones provide the strength, the water refreshes and sustains and reveals many ways to yield.

I release the River Rat from its perch on the truck and gently carry it down to the waters edge, easing it into the water from the beach. Life jacket secured, I timidly step in and make adjustments. Unfamiliar still. Although protected here in this bay, the wind is whipping up some small wavelets and I'm not feeling particularly ready for those yet. A few strokes and the boat proves to be sure and certain as it knifes through water. I slow and feel the boat pull away with the wind. Paddling into the swell created by a fishing boat across the bay, my hips dip and as the boat responds my heart is in my throat - but we recover.

This is a new dance partner for me, my River Rat, and I will need to learn its steps. How it responds to my light touch on the paddle, my shift in weight, or a breeze or wave across the bow.  I paddle into deeper water, around a point and then back into shelter, feeling at times like the driver and at other times the passenger. This learning will take some time but I realize I am enjoying the quiet company of the boat, of myself.

Returning to shore, I pull in and step out, lift my boat from the water to rest softly on the shore. My dog greets me as if relieved I've made it out and back again without him. He leans against me for comfort, then follows beside as I step away, back on earth to find comfort in a chair and a notebook for reflection.

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