I took kayaking lessons recently for the first time. My, what a different perspective I got of a place I’ve loved for 23 years!
I’ve been walking around a local lake in a chain of parks (city, regional, state) not far from my house.
It’s a jewel of a park system our city is proud to have.
For me, it’s been the spot of extraordinary answers to prayer, peace, friendship-building, and the place where my beloved dog died on a final walk.
The large lake in the middle–which we always walked around–is a place of beauty.
I’ve walked past it hundreds of times now, and often thought, I should take kayaking lessons and go out on the water.
It’s taken me twenty years, but this summer, finally, I did!
Why take kayaking lessons?
Kayaking looks like beauty in motion to me.
How complicated can it be?
Getting into the boat looks like the hardest part.
You launch–somehow–dip in your paddle, and slip away from the shore.
No noise, smooth movement through the water. You have time to ponder and admire without distractions.
As a gift, I treated three relatives to a class with me. Our ages ranged across three generations from me to a tween with two clever women in between.
While the two clever women had paddled kayaks before (one down the Sabalos River in Nicaragua through ferocious fish and the other around this very lake), none of us knew any techniques.
So, the young man and the young woman from the county recreation department taught us.
What did I learn?
How to get into the kayak gracefully was the first trick!
Fortunately, I was wearing sandals that can go in and out of the water without worry, so that enabled me to “gracefully” step into the boat.
WIth a push, I went into the lake, laughing all the way.
The paddle was the hardest part to manage.
With “blades” on both sides of a metal pole, I had to learn the rocking back and forth movement to push the small craft through the water.
By thinking of it as a graceful dip into first one side, then the other, I began to get the hang of it.
It was both harder and simpler than I expected, and I was so pleased when the craft smoothly responded and I went FORWARD!
But, what about perspective?
I’ve seen this lake in all types of weather, in all four seasons, always from the path.
I’ve looked down on it, across it, from the shore, behind the reeds, countless times.
It’s always been a place for reflection, vigorous walking, and absorbing conversation, pauses to peer at where bird watchers pointed, and pure joy.
Rain or shine.
But that Saturday while kayaking, I discovered a bird sanctuary island in the middle, saw the growing weeds which threatened, and paused to wonder about bubbles! (As in, what’s sending up bubbles?)
It didn’t take long to feel comfortable in the water–though I still have some issues “backing up.”
But, I felt triumphant when I paddled right through a group of mean-spirited Canadian Geese (who used to torment my blind dog when we walked the lake).
(They, of course, didn’t care if I paddled between them.)
No noise as I paddled, despite all the people I could see walking the path.
It’s a no-noise lake, so the few boats we saw didn’t have their outboard motors in the water.
Our class of a dozen fanned out across the northern part of the lake, poked into the reeds, startled a few turtles, watched serene ducks floating, and even laughed at upended ducks hunting fish.
We finished well.
What do I think of kayaking?
We all agreed we’d happily do it again.
I found it serene, easy, pleasant, and just a lovely way to spend a few hours on a Saturday morning.
The tween enjoyed herself with a nod.
The adventuring woman who kayaked down the Sabalos River is happy she now knows how to turn quickly.
My other relative enjoyed being out on the water.
And now, one of my walking partners is interested in giving it a try, too.
I loved learning about kayaking at the local lake.
Tweetables
Discovering a different lake perspective while kayaking. Click to Tweet
A perfect end to a lovely summer–learning how to kayak. Click to Tweet
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