Thursday, 13 April 2017
There is a good south wind today, even the clouds are moving, something that rarely happens in this part of the country, unlike the midwest where I grew up. There, clouds race across the sky and one could lay on their back an be fully entertained as they changed shapes while speeding by.
I am pushed north up Lake Union, at first it is gentle, but once out of the shelter of the shoreline hills, I spend as much time holding course as I do paddling, making the same speed either way. The waves are small enough and nothing is urgent or hurried. It is just a free ride. Rounding the point into Portage Bay I make an upwind leg, but since this bay is well protected by a ridge, it is an easy paddle, hugging the artificial shoreline of houseboats.
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I stop in the east channel of the burial island to listen to the wind in the tall alders, a long shoosh with the underneath rattle of ten thousand leaves striking other leaves. It dominates the city sounds and is good for the soul.
I return to the lagoon, my all too short sleep from last night catching up with me. The canoe is pushed by the wind into the lily pads and I lay back and doze.
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