Life of Wry

The day started like this…early morning, breathless, quiet.

That’s Rick sittin’ on the dock of the lake, sun just up, about 6:30.  I was awake, too, but still lying in my bag.  Later, Rick told me he was thinking about fishing and wondering why he’d not fished in so many years, when he’d enjoyed it so much as a kid.  We talked a lot this weekend about our lives, how much life we have left, how we wanted to live, what matters.  I felt pretty comfortable with it all.  It complements what I’ve been reading and thinking about recently… recently being the last couple years, but especially the last few months.  Good and fine.

Very nice day, too.

Jim and I were the breakfast cooks and served pancakes with orange zest and some good peaches and kiwi.  Then, the hikers hiked, up to Haypress Meadow, via Triangle Lake, and back.  Jim decided to continue and ended up climbing Ralston (9300′, about an 1800′ elevation gain from the cabin) and said he got a great view of Desolation Wilderness, Echo and dozens of others lakes, Tahoe, its surrounding peaks.. and loved it.

Susan and I were the non-hikers and ambled around in the forest taking pictures of wildflowers.  About half my flower pictures came out.  About half of those I could identify.  Here are a couple of no-name posies:

Loved the photography expedition, but I don’t like being a non-hiker.  That’s all I’m going to say about that.

The afternoon was more reading.  I finished a truly inspiring book by my friend Toni.. which I may write about at another time, but I will say it was a perfect read for this kind of weekend.

Then, more talking and deckside aps for us; the boys went off in their kayaks with rocks and a bunch of line to do some sounding experiments and island exploration.

Jim and I were on for dinner and made a big pot of stir-fry, with brownies for dessert.

Then.  THEN… since it was a full moon and the lake was still as night, we headed out in a pair of canoes and the boys’ kayaks to watch the moon rise over the mountains to the east.

It was about the coolest thing ever.  The lake was liquid black, there were silvery reflections of the moon on the water, and the trees and beautiful Sierra were in silhouette all around.  It was eerily quiet; you could hear the sound of paddles muscling through water, even the delicate sound of drops falling off our blades.  The moon, of course, was really bright and lit up the lake, but not enough to give you a sense of where the shoreline was, exactly, or where shallow rocks might pop up.  Later, I found out the others were apprehensive about this.  But I was blissfully not.

We rowed around the whole upper lake.. maybe about 30-40 minutes.  I felt thrilled, like I’d just pulled something off, and I think I was smiling the whole time.  I was also reciting this to myself, the parts that I could remember, anyway:

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
‘O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!’

Pussy said to the Owl, ‘You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?’
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.

‘Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?’ Said the Piggy, ‘I will.’
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.