The Dock

This took forever to write. Nothing I could write could meet the sheer impressiveness of the event.   So, in the spirit of leaving the best till last….

The first day at the lake house in High Rock Lake I took advantage of my spectacular jet lag and made sure I was sitting on the dock as the sun rose.   Wesley was up, as is his want, but on the first day he was doing his taxes.  So I sat alone on the dock as the lake woke up.

And it was spectacular.

The fish jumped up from the water; the birds swooped and sang; the water changed colour as the sun rose. The trees surrounding the lake became lit with sunlight. Shadows moved and crept around. The whole morning was perfectly still with only the bird song to break the silence.

I was sitting there watching the day wake up. It was so incredibly peaceful and unbelievably beautiful. I loved that morning.

You see what I did there though. Tree, pretty. Lake, pretty. Birds, pretty. Absolutely nothing wrong with that. As I said, that morning was superb.  We should all see mornings like that if we’re lucky.

The next morning Wesley had unburdened himself from the taxes and came with me. Another morning like yesterday, perfectly still and calm. Cool but soon warming. Sunlight peeking out. The same as the day before.

Except this time I had Wesley with me and he showed me the morning through his eyes. The lake came alive and he explained it all, describing the events as this incredible narrative.

The birds were no longer merely flying. A v shaped flock of birds flew overhead. Two of the birds broke formation to squabble amongst themselves.  “They’re vireos.” I am told.  “They’re fighting over a female”

Herron flew past us and sat alone on the side of the lake. “… nest alone as a protection against predators…” An eagle flew over head and swooped over the trees in the distance; “….catching the early morning prey. Too early for him though…”

Birds, pretty.

The air was still however Wesley pointed out wind speed using clouds and the birds as a guide.  Sounds travelled across the water; I was taught how to judge where sound came from as noises echoed off the banks of the lake. Early morning fisherman came straight at us, sounding like they were coming from our side.

The trees surrounding the lake were no longer just trees. All had names, Latin and English. All were explained why they grew as they did.  The Quercus Alba forked to the sky and described how it would look when it bud in the spring.  The Acer Rubrum was hiding its beauty now and I needed to see its incredible redness in the fall.

Trees, pretty.

The lake itself revealed secrets. Waves had purpose, influenced by tides and weather. Sheets of glassy stillness amongst the waves of the lake suddenly made sense. “Where the river flows underneath…” Trout sprang out of the water around us, catching its early morning meal.

Lake, pretty.

Everything had its place. Nothing was random. It was as though a huge curtain had been pulled back on nature. Everything was relevant; the invisible strands that connected all  of the players were revealed. The day before I had seen all the elements of the morning; now the elements coalesced into a waltz, all explained through his words.  This dance of spring played out in front of us, leaving me breathless.

In a trip full of wonderful moments this was, without doubt, the best.

It’s life changing, moments like these.  Since then I have never taken my surroundings for granted. I look at trees and birds and wonder how they all fit together, knowing that they do. It’s just not my gift to see it. Yet.

But it’s also life changing when you realise there are people who  can inspire you to see things differently. Who challenge you with their words and their love.  And how you realise you need them in your life, once you know they’re there. I learnt more in that short period of time than I have in years. It’s intoxicating.

Which is why there are more mornings on the dock in my future.

Many, many more.

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