So, after delaying as much as possible - a leisurely lunch at Carousel, my town's favorite breakfast and lunch joint, chatting with the staff, walking into town to sign up for a workshop at The Paper Source, a mouth-watering paper craft store, and then watering all my plants - I realized there was still time to go, so I went.
I drove out to the Griggstown Canoe and Kayak rental, which I haven't used before, climbed shakily into my snazzy red kayak, and started out on my riparian quest for nirvana. I had checked out paddling technique in a book about kayaking a couple of evenings ago, but somehow the words didn't translate into action, so I decided to worry about technique later, and just paddle any way that seemed to work.It was like life, in a way. Sometimes the paddling went so smoothly. My kayak just glided through the water, and my strokes were effortless, rhythmic, regular. But just when I thought to myself, "Hey, I've got the hang of this!" my paddling would go to pieces and the paddle would go in too far, or not far enough, or my strokes would be too strong on one side, too light on the other, or it would just feel wrong and laborious for no reason I could discern. And then it would feel smooth and relaxed again.
Along the way I saw some incredibly beautiful lobelia cardinalis, a bright, bright red wild flower; I back-paddled and then just floated by as slowly as possible to try to really see it as much as possible. And I spotted two turtles; one sunning on the shore, and a much, much larger one diving off a tree trunk into the canal.It was lovely, especially the floating interludes, when I just sat back in the seat and let the paddle rest in front of me, feeling the gentle drifting and flow of the water.
Afterwards, it was still light, so I drove over to some woods and wandered along a brook. I am always looking for treasure when I walk in the woods - a grotesquely twisted, gnarled branch, a pebble with a "fossil," anything with a whiff of magic to it. Today I found a large white plastic pawn - about 3" tall, mostly buried in the loamy soil. It was so odd. What did it mean? (I know, I know, these things don't really "mean" anything, but what meaning would feel right if I ascribed it to this find?) I am just a pawn in life? I should stop being just a pawn? Pawns get tossed aside and stepped on? Life is like a game of chess? (Unfortunately, I am deeply, truly inept at chess!) At any rate, it was surprising enough that I took it along with me when I emerged back into the real world. I wish it had been made of alabaster instead of plastic, but I have silver and gold leaf, and have been mulling over how to transform my pawn. I think the least I can do for it is give it a crown.
At any rate, according to the freckle-faced teen at the kayak concession, there are six or more weekends of kayaking left, so I will definitely go again. I am so glad that inertia didn't overcome my good intentions! You know about the road to hell; I don't want to contribute any further to its paving! ("The road to hell is paved with good intentions.")
