Nutter Butters and gourmet cheddar hamburgers were the featured viands of our camping trip. We spent the day on Canton Lake, first in a friend's new boat while (most) everyone took turns water skiing; then Eric and I launched their old boat we borrowed, buzzing full throttle over to the beach. From the sandy shore, we watched sea gulls stalk the fish who flip and feed at the surface of the water. We headed back across the lake as the sun began its inglorious setting ending in a rosy cloud-wisped sky.
Back at camp, we cooked our dinner in courses over the grill, played chess in the light of a glowing florescent lantern, and watched the Milky Way as stars fell far over our heads.
We found tent sleeping less than romantic. Or maybe it's romanticised. Our bones were either bruised or misplaced by dawn's early light.
The feature success of our deep reed fishing that morning was a little brim that Eric caught on the second cast. My bright-red-monster-squid-like lure must have sent the rest into hiding. We left the fish to their play and became one with them over on the beach side, where we floated in the cool, cold water and listened to some little girls voice our own opinions--the dismay of resounding "no" to the parentals who declare the time has come to go home.
No comments:
Post a Comment