Wild are the Waters

Musings of a week on the shores of Lake Ontario

We arrived a day later than planned. The truck had issues. It was hemorrhaging steering fluid. The camper was packed with everything imaginable for an entire week boondocking. The only thing we needed was local wood for the campfire. There was disappointment. Tears. Then half hearted anger at the absurd timing of it all,...and then gratitude that this problem didn't happen on the busiest of interstates! He found the issue. No auto parts stores had the part...but Amazon did. It arrived the next day, and by mid afternoon we were off, with my newest AAA card tucked tightly into my wallet!

Our camp was nestled behind low grassy dunes along the freshwater natural sand beach. A wispy white pine accompanied by some smaller scrappier pines, the kind with the sharp pinecones still clinging to its boughs, provided a respite from the late afternoon sun. I would, however, been doing an injustice by not mentioning our mighty grove of sentinels...the cottonwoods!

Oh what steady unwavering trunk

and unbothered bough! Only the constant

rustle of silvery heart shaped leaves was the only thing that moved, a constant reminder of the ever blowing of winds from an ever changing weather pattern that ebbed and flowed over the lake and under the skies. How amazing those groves must look when the temperature drops and Autumn descends!

"Under seeming grey skies, ripples and layers mimic deep waters below...pale whites to steel greys...and on closer observation, the palest of rose quartz, citrine, and celestite begin to appear, faint and everchanging in the coastal breezes. Grasses sway and the cottonwoods, ancient, tall, and straight, stand sentinel, their wispy silver leaves chattering away of their stories in the slightest breeze."

(From my sketchbook writings June 3, 2024)

There were many walks. Along the water, through the wood and the swamps, and fields of tall grass and wild bloom where only the thinnest of paths shown the way as red winged black birds and dragonflies flitted, and leopard frogs leapt out of the way, just one hop, and graciously posed for many a photo to be taken as we giggled, trying to re-locate them with their impossible camouflage amidst the thick grasses! We thanked them for their patience and for posing for the camera and wished them a pleasant day!

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was hot. Unseasonably so. But then again the whole of spring in the northeast had been. We ventured along the St. Lawrence River. Traversed by boat and ferry. Toured old castles. Burned and sweltered under the sun, my brown canvas sack of granola bars and tepid water depleted, we were revived for a short time every few hours by an icy cold, overpriced drink enjoyed under a windswept tree on a long-gone millionaire's front lawn. The burn and the bug bites were worth it for the new memories forged!

We cooked over wood flame and spent hours watching the clouds churn over the lake. How long would it take for that wall of ridiculously tall puffy cumulous clouds take to slowly spread and reach over our heads? Five hours? Ten? I have much to learn from the weather and the clouds!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The waves and the water and the clouds...the sunrises and the sunsets...the simple living...the world and society washed away like the seagull's shallow foot prints in the sand...

Be well, Friends.

I hope you all have the opportunity to take respite from 'society'.

Best Wishes,

Archaena