Low Humidity, a light breeze, and blue sky. My feet are in the sand and my eyes are tracking out to my daughter digging a canal to the lake, goggles perched on her head, a bucket beside. The crackling sound of the Chex Mix bag my son is digging into to find his favorites is coming from my right. I can see him in my peripheral, sitting on a kickboard to keep his bum out of the sand and I wonder how he’s doing keeping the sand out of the Chex Mix. Two kids in matching yellow swimmies splash and play in the shallows just down the beach. Beyond them the lake stretches out and widens until it reaches the dark green mountains on the other side. The only jolt to the peace of it is the bright yellow buoy line stretched across from one side to the other to keep the boats and swimmers separate.
“There’s nothing special about you, Terra.” Those words suddenly come to mind and I search to find the reason why. I don’t hear them as self defeating; I’m not “downing” myself. “I’m a part of this, not the pinnacle” is my realization.
Now, the youngest is laying on a towel under my chair – under me. “I don’t have anything to worry about here,” he sais. And I feel cold on my big toe because the oldest is “helping me” decide if I want to go in for a swim by pouring water samples on my feet. The sole of his tender foot is rubbing my calf…
… I did it. I took the plunge into that mountain lake water and I’m still recovering. Those moments, they are gone. Time’s feet walk past. Mine are in the sand again. Things have shifted. My son is back beside me on the kickboard, the crackling resumes in the search for treasure. The canal project abandoned, the bucket gone; a green plastic shovel from the same set in it’s place. She’s on a rock behind me, thawing out too. It is a beautiful day. Low humidity, a light breeze and blue sky. I was going to read a book, but this is too good.