It’s March! Come Celebrate and Take a Ride With Me!

The wind always changes in March.  Almost like it’s the wind in my soul.  I can surely count on it – almost every March 1st something just happens, and it’s always on the good side of things.  Or at least I remember it so.  I’m still not much into pontificating these days, more just living in the good.  I’m sure I’ll get riled up again before long, but for now, enjoy the journey.

So as March returned, I orchestrated my own sea change, with an assist by a most glorious day, weather-wise.  I start celebrating in March, because it’s my birth month, and as good an excuse as any to raise the flags.  And I fly them all month long.  I declared that it would be the day to finally take my kayak out of dry dock and set sail, or paddle, into the waters and head out to sea, or the cove at least, and Captain Picard would be proud of me – I made it so.

After a few necessaries of business and home, the next order of the day was to take the kids down to the lake first, for they are most perturbed if they are not so entertained.  They come up the stairs and make their presence known until I get my shoes on and get with the program.  They are most insistent, with the intention of not being denied.  Perhaps they take after their person, since I seem to display some of the same tendencies once I get a bead on something.  Sometimes that’s even a good thing.

As always, the Click On Pic to Make It Bigger rule applies.  Should that be true in Real Life?  Real Life – huh, there’s another topic, but not today.

And so, first trip to the lake, and I noticed immediately that the waters had become clear again.  I don’t know what happened, but since the last time I was there, it looked really clean and inviting – and yes, summer, and swimming, are surely coming.  We haven’t been getting those shimmery reflections in so long, but there they were.

 

Cold water holds no deterrence for the four foots, and it’s always time for water sports, even if the stick is about as long as the dog.

 

I am remiss in that I don’t know the name of this plant.  They’re all dried and going to seed, waiting for the new growth of spring.  When they bloom, they are fuzzy and pretty, and much preferred to the cockleburs that I have grown to hate, especially when trying to remove them from the dogs.

 

Most days, other neighborhood playmates show up – of the dog variety, that is.  The usual suspect is Edgar, whose only reason for being on the planet seems to be to retrieve sticks thrown into the water, then destroy them.  He’s strong and plays too rough sometimes, but loves attention.  On days when I haven’t had my camera, there have been maybe nine dogs down there, outnumbering us human types.  Fortunately, so far, they all play well together, or tolerate each other.  Maybe like most of us humans…… Should Be!

 

 

The dogs having had their day, it was time for MY day, so I took the kids back home, loaded up the Yak, (I’ve still yet to name it/her/him? – but I did buy it because it was beautiful and had the name Commitment included in its pedigree, emblazoned on the side), and it was Off to the Waters!  What I envisioned as my personal time was not quite as ordered.  A young couple appeared the same time I did, with pick-up truck and loud radio which they parked right next to the water, (some folks just don’t get it about peace and quiet and the moment), and the construction people were still making much noise at the property nearby. You just deal, or “ignore,”  and so I launched and headed for the back end of the cove.

 

Once around the bend, it all changed.  No noise.  No wind.  Nothing but me and the water and the rocks and the sky…. And incredible reflections. Ah-h-h-h.

More on that diamond in a minute.

 

 

 

 

The rocks and the water made for wonderful images.

 

Art Shot!  It’s that Diamond thing again.

 

Even the neighbor’s swim dock made for art.

 

 

And then I had some magical moments with some of the other locals.  Look for the “surprise” in this next picture.

Surely you found it – the female duck almost invisible behind the rock.

 

And here she is again, and Mr. Mallard, too.  So beautiful.

 

 

So much for exploring the back end of the cove.  Now it was time to head out to what I call Big Water – the open part of the lake.  Perfect day.  Perfect light.  Perfect everything.

 

 

This isn’t much of a shot, but I had to share the moment.  As I turned North, I heard a call from the hill on my right.  It took me a moment to place what I’d heard, and then, there it was.  Osprey!  I’ve seen them fly high and then dive, and come up with a fish.  I hope they make it out here, with what’s here and still coming.

 

And speaking of, here it is……. Progress.  This is the cove over the hill from us.  The west side is still pristine, but this is where the eartheaters are coming.  I used to walk over there, and sit and just look at the quiet water.  Found a fox den once.  All sorts of wild things.  Not any more.  The east side used to look just the same.

 

Look at this.  Progress.  Not hardly a tree left, denuded, and I heard that the raft of boat docks, (there are literally hundreds of slips), got wrenched and piled when the drought hit big time and the cove got shallow.  Can you spell Karma?

 

Having had enough of what makes me sad, I turned and headed out again.  One of the great things about living out here and not having that “real job” is the ability to take advantage of the lake in the middle of the week.  You won’t find me out here on weekends in the summer, with the cigarette boats tearing up and down in madness and full throttle noise.  What we call “The Island” is across the lake, offering a sandy beach and wonderful swimming.  How can I ever think about moving to West Texas and not having The WATER?  Guess I’m just going to have to have two houses – yeah, that’s it.

 

Turning for home now.  Quiet everywhere.  The light is going.  So peaceful.

 

I paddle over the to the rock outcrop that marks the boundary of the cove and Big Water – the furthest point I swim to when I’m out on my own.  I hear that familiar call – my favorite bird in these parts – and there he is.  I know I’ve been promising that picture of a wren, and here it is.  All King (or Queen, maybe) of everything, and nothing matches the glorious song of the Canyon Wrens.  There’s more sound coming out of that little body than can be accounted for – another wondrous miracle.

 

The rocks have been uncovered as the lake level lowers.  The mosses that have been happily existing under the water have been exposed, and now we have hairy looking rocks.  Very strange looking indeed.

 

Back down the cove now, and headed for home.  The light is almost gone, and I paddle in shade.  Quiet reigns.  The lovebirds and their music blasting truck are gone – the construction workers wham and bang no more.

 

As I approach the shore I see my two favorite neighborhood friends sitting and enjoying the scene with their kids, (that would be more dogs.)  I am assisted out of my kayak, helped to load, and even invited to dinner!  March is starting off wonderfully for sure.  We all sit and enjoy the last of the light, and I love the way my kayak looks on the bank.

Yak and Mango.

 

Miss Lucky watches from her perch.  We’re all lucky to live here, and have the water.

 

What a nice ride.  What a fine day.  Lucky indeed.

 

 

After dinner, I come back and reflect on the day.  What a good day.  What a perfect day.  And it’s only the first of March.  Many more kayak rides to come, time with friends, live music in the offing in the coming days, Big Bend in a few weeks.  I hate the horror of the news, but here, in my cocoon and on the water, my life is sweet and full.  And I’m keeping my promise to myself –

Purple this week.

 

Happy March, y’all.  Hope you enjoyed the ride.  Bless the healing waters, and remember Gratitude.

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