A
splash
overtakes
the stern and
rocks grind the
gunwales. Quick to
maneuver, draw draw
draw, easing the boat into
calmer waters; pause. A deep
breath to regain focus and scout
the stream ahead. White water, boiling
foaming writhing as it is forced reluctantly
along. Trout shimmer under the warm sun
cutting effortlessly through the brisk water.
Disrupted and scattering they flee as a stroke
breaks the surface, bubbles rise off the paddle
ascending like the decent of snowflakes falling
falling falling to the surface above. On this ground
blanketed by freshly fallen snow, water bugs dart
back and forth more quickly than the eye can see,
disturbing only a slight dimple below. These too
flee as the water is broken, cut in half, by the keel
of a slender hull sliding seductively over the surface.
The pace hastens. Unified, the paddler and boat
react and flow as one. Tipping forward over the
brink, the canoe shoots forward over thrashing
snow. Quick right. Dodging a fallen weathered
tree. Quick left. Swooping past a rocky isle.
Whitecaps breaking and eddies twisting, a
sirens song, drawing the boat closer.
Violent spray distracts from the call of
the sirens and the canoe is buffeted
from side to side rocking perilously.
Waves reach up in a welcoming
embrace as the boat quivers.
Regaining balance it soars
onward, leaving the
anguished water
with only a
fading
wake.
V
-AM