Saturday 7/21 0700
Last morning here.
Last night we rode the launch out past the old lighthouse and into the bay to watch the sun set. It was after nine o’clock. We watched the big orange ball slip beneath the horizon and disappear into the water.
Now, here it is, yellow and new, arcing up over Burnt Island, strong and proud. Ready for a new day.
It is depressing to think that we must leave today. It has been so heavenly here. And yesterday was a glorious last day.
The morning was windy and brisk, yet sunny. It called for long pants and a sweatshirt. After lunch we were able to sit out in the sun. We set up chairs behind the main cabin, to block the wind, and atop giant rocks, so the sun’s heat radiated off. By three, we decided to walk to the far end of the island and go swimming as the water is warmer there.
It was still chilly, and the sun kept darting behind clouds and then back out. Cold. Warm. Cold. Warm. Cold. Warm.
B and I went for a wonderful kayak trip around Electric Island, towards the bay, and then around. The wind had picked up again some by then, but it wasn’t too hard to paddle.
Back into long pants and a sweatshirt. Cocktails and hors d’ouevres. Reading. Then hamburgers on the grill, fresh corn on the cob, pasta salad, and a syrah from one of the Canadian wineries. We still had to wait a bit to take the boat out to watch the sunset. Days are long here in Canadian summer. But way too short at the same time.
I read a lot this week: newspapers, magazines, and books. Four books total. And half of another.
The water is lapping gently against the neighbors’ dock, a duck is quacking, the whine of a motorboat fading into the distance.
A loon.
We have seen several loons swimming by the cabin and diving below the surface. Every time he sees one do this, B says, “There must be fish in our water.”
The Marleys stopped by yesterday on their way back from grocery shopping. They dropped off a Sears catalog. It was nice to meet them both. We had heard so much about them from B. We went out to meet them on the dock. B asked them up for a drink, but they demurred. Mrs. Marley said she needed a nap, and to got to the bathroom. B finally convinced them to come see the new addition to the cabin, the link between the main cabin and the sleeping cabin. But they didn’t stay for a drink. Another time, they promised.
The sun feels so warm against my face. I can’t believe that tomorrow morning I will not be sitting in this same red and wicker rocking chair, writing in this notebook, relaxed, embracing yet another glorious day on Georgian Bay.
Last night we rode the launch out past the old lighthouse and into the bay to watch the sun set. It was after nine o’clock. We watched the big orange ball slip beneath the horizon and disappear into the water.
Now, here it is, yellow and new, arcing up over Burnt Island, strong and proud. Ready for a new day.
It is depressing to think that we must leave today. It has been so heavenly here. And yesterday was a glorious last day.
The morning was windy and brisk, yet sunny. It called for long pants and a sweatshirt. After lunch we were able to sit out in the sun. We set up chairs behind the main cabin, to block the wind, and atop giant rocks, so the sun’s heat radiated off. By three, we decided to walk to the far end of the island and go swimming as the water is warmer there.
It was still chilly, and the sun kept darting behind clouds and then back out. Cold. Warm. Cold. Warm. Cold. Warm.
B and I went for a wonderful kayak trip around Electric Island, towards the bay, and then around. The wind had picked up again some by then, but it wasn’t too hard to paddle.
Back into long pants and a sweatshirt. Cocktails and hors d’ouevres. Reading. Then hamburgers on the grill, fresh corn on the cob, pasta salad, and a syrah from one of the Canadian wineries. We still had to wait a bit to take the boat out to watch the sunset. Days are long here in Canadian summer. But way too short at the same time.
I read a lot this week: newspapers, magazines, and books. Four books total. And half of another.
The water is lapping gently against the neighbors’ dock, a duck is quacking, the whine of a motorboat fading into the distance.
A loon.
We have seen several loons swimming by the cabin and diving below the surface. Every time he sees one do this, B says, “There must be fish in our water.”
The Marleys stopped by yesterday on their way back from grocery shopping. They dropped off a Sears catalog. It was nice to meet them both. We had heard so much about them from B. We went out to meet them on the dock. B asked them up for a drink, but they demurred. Mrs. Marley said she needed a nap, and to got to the bathroom. B finally convinced them to come see the new addition to the cabin, the link between the main cabin and the sleeping cabin. But they didn’t stay for a drink. Another time, they promised.
The sun feels so warm against my face. I can’t believe that tomorrow morning I will not be sitting in this same red and wicker rocking chair, writing in this notebook, relaxed, embracing yet another glorious day on Georgian Bay.
posted by delta at 9:56 PM
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