A Silent Morning Paddle

A Striking Kayak Morning 8:16 8:41

Now  by Barbara Crooker  What can l say, now that summer’s gone, with the weight of its heat, its thick blanket of humidity, the cacophony of zinnias, marigolds, salvia? Now the sky is clear blue and cloudless, that sure one-note that can only mean October. You’re gone. The leaves turn gold in the calendar’s rotisserie, giving up their green, and the burning bushes have ignited, struck their book of matches. It’s enough to make the heart break, isn’t it? We keep going down the one road, there’s no turning back. - from today's Writer's Almanac

It was 5: 45 when I woke, came downstairs to utter darkness.  Just now, at 7:00, the lake and opposite shore have become visible, the lake a smooth piece of slate. It seems a long way off to noon, when I can start thinking about lunch, perhaps a nap.  We got some rain overnight, more is predicted over the next couple of days.  When we went to bed last night,  not a leaf riddled our green lawn because we had just cut it.  This morning, when I went out to take a photograph, the lawn is covered with leaves, our noble maples, more and more naked.

Fallen Leaves In The Morning

We were both busy yesterday with the end of the summer kinds of chores.  I was out early, in the rowboat, gathering the buoys from the water, then cleaning them, throwing away the ropes covered with zebra mussels, the bane of our lake this summer, covering anything from boat bottoms to docks. I then spent a good amount of time putting away various summer items into the attic of our garage and pulling out some of the things we will need for winter, like the snow shovels.  Yikes.  And we put away all lawn furniture, cleaning it first, then storing it for the winter, a sad but necessary fall chore.  By 11:30, we were through with our duties, so Evie quickly put on her suit and went out to enjoy the dock and sun for perhaps one of the last days, as the dock is coming in this week, and the days are starting to cool.

I had some lunch, a quesadilla and soup, while Evie read, and stayed out until around 4:00.  I joined her for a half hour but the gusts of wind drove me back into the house, to the couch for my daily nap. Around 4:30, Evie fired up the lawn mower,  I got out the rake, and between us our lawn looked like a golf course.  It took both of us just about an hour, Evie cutting the majority of course.

About 6:00, I drive over to the Bridge Pizza, and picked up  our dinner, as neither of us felt like messing around in the kitchen.  The pizza, mushroom and pepperoni, was decent not great, like most pizzas around here.  But we enjoyed it, with a salad and a Pepsi...got to have a Pepsi with your pizza.
We watched new episodes of both Homeland and The Affair, neither of which grabbed us yet but we will persevere, hoping they will get better.  For now, both seem to have little plot, lots of filler, long shots and endless daily routines, like making a dinner.  Having finished THE NIGHTINGALE, I am now into another Charles Cummins, Thomas Kell, spy novel, A FOREIGN COUNTRY, set in various European and Middle Eastern countries.  So far, so good.

We have set up a date with a nursery to put in a tree, so now we have to go pick one out at Art Samples, just down the road in Ashville.  We are leaning towards a red sunset maple.  Any other suggestions for a hardy, fast growing  shade tree?

Time to kayak.