The serenity of the open water purifies my soul. Mechanically rowing, I am mesmerised by the properties of the water as it ripples, peaks and changes form with every pull.
Floating in a cove with my love, I can’t help but watch his body flex and move as he maneuvers the oar, the kayak, the rocky shore.
We converse, relax and reconnect.
He pulls up beside me for a kiss.
We sit in intoxicating silence.
We row and float and row for hours, until the thought of having to row home sounds juuuuust too hard.
It doesn’t take long to get back to our shore.
“OOOOONNN!!” calls my husband in his deep, tenor voice.
Off the deck and down the hill she runs, right on cue like it’s the happiest moment of her entire life.
“Mom and Dad!” she pants. “MOM and DAD!”
I always talk for her.
Into the water she splashes for it’s her favorite place in the world. The three of us float and row in the bay between the dock and Rocky Point; Juno swims in figure-eights around and between us, steering with her tail and snuffing the water from her nose as she nips and chases after the drips from the oars.
I sit back and take it in, closing my eyes to the sun; I’m still drunk from the ride and hearing the familiar sounds of laughter and play I exhale deeply and think this-
T H I S
is where I always want to be.