It’s here at last, the day my kayak gets launched into the deep blue water of Georgian Bay. If we were having coffee, I would walk you down to the shore, where you could dip your feet into that calmness while I heft my 13-foot craft over the edge of the dock.
The wooden planks would still be pliable from the moisture of the wicked, blowy winters here, but toasty today from the rising spring warmth.
You would not see fish yet. They will not butt their ugly whiskered snouts up against the pilings in the water for a month or so, when the water warms, but you would definitely hear the little frogs, the peepers in the nearby marsh, hundreds of them emitting that distinctive, high-pitched trilling.
You and I would drink our coffee from battered insulated cups (i have them by the dozen for waterside moments like this) while watching Canada geese, swans, cormorants and screaming seagulls flash above us.
But I would admit to you I’m a bit preoccupied for in-depth conversation, since the sight of my kayak finally sitting in the water makes me yearn to be afloat.
The #WeekendCoffeeShare is hosted by blogger Diana at Part Time Monster.