If we opened the windows from our hearts and looked out, maybe we’d see something like this…
It’s early morning, we’ve just pulled away from the pier. We’ve got the old Evinrude gassed up and practically drowning the stern of this old boat…
But, right now, you’re rowing by hand, at least til we get past the weedy shallows. Those old oak oars warmed in the sun sure do clank in their locks…
and the shore birds are knocking themselves out singing like they’re auditioning for Carmen and the loons are crying, and the water striders are striding, and you are pulling those oars deep and smooth through this nearly gin-clear water.
And the smell of everything is so pure, it seems like it’s only the second day of Creation.
Oh! d’ja see that? My God, it was probably, what? a twenty pounder?
They say the walleyes and bass that live in this lake are older than the sky. You brought the minnows, right?
Good. No, you go ahead, I’ll just lie here eyes closed in this sweet God’s light. If you wouldnt mind, after you catch breakfast, lunch and dinner, just taking me over to the north side of the lake?
Well, you remember now don’t you? That’s where the water lilies grow. We could have flowers for the table, beautiful long rooted flowers that smell like lake water even after dark…