lake – By Sarah

It is morning. And it is still.

I stand on the bank and survey the lake before me.

Conditions are perfect and the water is crystalline; a mirror. There is not even the slightest breeze. A small gathering of seagulls take a morning meeting in the nearby sand, granting me their approval.

I pick up the kayak and gently ease it into the shallows. The disturbance creates a ripple, instantly breaking the glass. Briefly, I feel sad for my part in this, and then I slide myself into the seat, contemplating my path for today. I gently manoeuvre the paddle through the water, like a twirling baton, and start to warm up.

The water is cool on my fingers as they glance through with each stroke. The first few are always the best.

Like a release button in my soul, I start to feel the rhythm and relax.

I push all of the things from my mind and leave them on my wake. If I paddle fast enough, maybe they will fall behind altogether.

I find my groove and create a flurry of movement and motion. A soundtrack of splash, suction, and water dancing around the hull.

Push, drop, pull, twist, release, reset.

And breathe.

Don’t forget to breathe.

As I power through the water, I am focused and strong. I marvel that my body can do this and fix on a point ahead.

In places, the current unexpectedly grips me. But I know what to do, I have done this hundreds of times before. I bury the blade deeper, push stronger and with a flick of my wrists, pick up more water.

And suddenly, I am there.

A quick look at my watch, I check the time.

It is morning still.

And so, I keep on paddling. Here, the water is smooth and flat, offering reflections from the surrounding banks. Though I notice the mirrored images are not quite carbon copies. Tiny horizontal ripples give them unique identities and I feel glad for them. I lean out to see my own reflection and it is the same. The girl in the water, a softer version than the original.

I decide to take a break and allow myself just to float. I surrender and let the waters lead me for a while. I rest my paddle, lie back and close my eyes.

As I bob there, I can feel the muted warmth of a sun still low in the sky. It sparkles behind my eyelids creating shapes and forms that frolic in my mind’s eye.

I inhale and exhale, long and slow, and allow my hand to trail in the water beside me. I can hear the lapping of tiny waves against the craft and twittering of birds. And nothing else.

It is morning. And now I am still.

Author’s Note: The Bloganuary prompt for 7 January 2023 is Write a short story or poem about rain. I have gone with the theme of “water” rather than rain, but have linked to this previous poem about rain as well. Read “Rainy-day Tableau” HERE.