Saturday, May 29, 2010

familiar tunes

It was a different lake, and a different part of the province - but the sound of water gently lapping at lake-front resonated deep as I waded in the shallow.

I have spent the majority of each of all my summer's on the lake of my upbringing.

Thinking about it brings up tears of gratitude and swells of joy.

The lake makes up my memories of toddlerhood, highschool breaks, winter adventures, and in between times. The lake is where I found my first kindred spirit. The lake is where I took risks in trees and learned caution over sticks and shells in the sand. The lake is where I came to welcome gathering and solitude. The lake is where I would read and write open-handed dreams in the sand to be carried off with rhythmic waves, where I learned season's pace and weather's frustrated furry - where I first wondered at 'glory' of heavens. It's where I learned a longing for cleansing and restoration to wholeness.

Today, I am grateful for:
  • memory.
  • things and signs.
  • being at the lake, and in the lake.
  • B & J and great artists.

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