Big water
December 31st, 2022
When I was a kid, my family would usually send me “to the lakes” in the summer. Actually — it was a summer camp on the lake, and a small lake at that. For a landlubber like me, even that small lake seemed enormous. Especially while kayaking across it with a bunch of rowdy teens in other kayaks, hell-bent on mayhem and disaster, with just a hapless lifeguard in a boat trying to keep order and make sure no one drowns. There were other lakes nearby, much bigger than the one where our camp was, and we had a clear warning that we need to stay away from those lakes. Of course, we didn't pay much attention to it.
I remember several times going to the sea as a child, on vacations with my family. I remember being scared and awed by the sheer expanse and coldness and waves and the secret danger of riptides and jellyfish. And the same with big rivers — each sight of a meandering, wide river (usually from the bridge) was an enormous event for me. As I mentioned above — I was a landlubber as a kid and a teen. There were no big lakes or rivers close by, and the sea was a whole day away by traveling by car or train. There were only some small streams and ponds and an artificial reservoir of some size within quick reach by walking or biking.
That changed when I was 18. For the next twenty years, I lived right by major rivers and lakes and most of all — the Atlantic Ocean. Quickly, I got used to it. Even the huge passenger ships going by on the Hudson River, which I could see from my windows, were just a normal, everyday sight. But still — big water, big expanses of water, were a significant part of my life and the way I spend my free time. I lived right by Hudson and East and Passaic Rivers. I would go down the shore in all seasons, except summer (too many bennies there in the summer). I spend many delightful day trips along the Delaware River and on the Lake Champlain, visiting quaint and historical New England towns. I braved weekend traffic in New York City to get to Long Island Sound and especially the Oyster Bay region. I enjoyed swimming and kayaking and boating, or just watching boats and ferries and sailboats and ships. It was a normal part of everyday life for me.
Now again, I live away from any sizable open bodies of water. I do enjoy whatever open water I can find in the area, but I long for more. And yesterday, on a quick trip, I found time to just sit down by the shore of a sizable lake and watch the water and hypnotic waves and listen to the sound water makes under the wind. And it was windy and cold, but still so delightful. There were no worries in my head, actually — there were not many thoughts, just a pleasure of being there.
