MindSpinner

(Saturday night)

At home in the mountains, at my mother’s, my son and daughter insisted today on taking the big canoe out on the lake. Never mind that the weather is cold and the lake mostly a thin sheet of ice. They broke the ice with their paddles and forged a passageway across from the nearest shore to a stretch of open water on the other side and then back again.

I could see from the top of the hill that the going was not easy, even on the way back. They huddled a little against the cold and brought the boat slowly to shore.

Tonight it has begun to snow, and late from my bedroom window at the top of the hill among the oaks, I can look out across the white expanse of ice to see a trail of dark water zigzagging out from shore into the far darkness, as if water itself remembers the small heroism of two teenagers setting off in a green canoe across an icy lake.

I will remember when the water forgets.