Watery Wednesday #50

In Muskoka, every day is Watery Wednesday! This video was taken on Monday.




In the video: an airplane sails gracefully across the sky. The heron hunts by the water. She is unmoved by hubby announcing that he is making muffins, bless him! The cats seek moles or grasshoppers nearby; again the heron is unmoved. The sun begins to warm the air. Then, the lake traffic begins. The heron seems to ignore the boat that whips a child by on a tube.

But then another day dawns. Fishermen troll by, seeking the solace of the early morning.

Sipping my morning coffee, I amble towards the door. My morning ritual: coffee, computer, and a quick survey of the lakefront. Most days the lake eases into its diurnal rhythms, too. A rhythm I like to follow. For today, for now, there is relative quiet. A hubby with a To Do list that involves 8 stops, he leaves shortly.

If I am up at the usual time, a cat meowing to come in when the sun rises, I can see the wildlife by the lakeside. Today I slept in! It was a chilly day.

My gardens, in the 12 degree morning, are not happy. The squash has not yet set fruit. Too cool, with not enough heat. Oh, well. C'est la vie! The foliage, but especially the flowers, are a delight. Methinks it a bit late for fruit now. We shall visit the weekly markets.

The lake is different every day. I love the changes. Usually the wind is absent in the early a.m. Some days, like today, it comes from the opposite shore. Sending gentle waves directly towards me; caressing my face, soothing my soul. I inhale the scent of the outdoors. Lake moisture, the pines, the fragrant aroma of the Asiatic Lilies; all a sensual beginning to the day.
Guinivere protects hers garden.

The black and gray squirrels are in the oak tree; dive bombing anyone who chooses to walk below. Guinivere looks at me as if for protection.

The sun sparkles between the leaves as it rises to its zenith. Across the peninsula, water dances in the breeze. I wonder if my mother of all turtles is on his rock getting warm in the sun?!

The low hum of traffic, off in the distance, reminds me of my former working life. Early morning alarm clocks turned off in the predawn, a 62 km drive into work, recess bells, yard duty, parent-teacher meetings, schedules and deadlines. I still have nightmares about these things: being late for school, not finding my daybook, or an inability to keep control of a classroom of rambunctious kids. 'Tis bittersweet knowing that what I have learned about curriculum, discipline, and the like, I now leave behind me for others to learn. The book I meant to write, as yet unwritten. I sip my coffee and ponder life.

I luxuriate in my chimes that warn of a storm. Mom always said that the wind from this direction forewarned of a change in weather. And living here full-time I find this is usually true. I love the wind and rain. I know how much the lake and the land need the water.

The place begins to become more active. The red squirrel's chittering tells me that the cat is nearby. Disgusted that Sady is on patrol; he tells the whole world.

All is well and good with the My Muskoka watery world.