A Day on the Bay
We both agree. There's nothing like a beautiful day out on Lake Erie.
And being "boat people", my husband George and I like to take advantage of any sunny, calm weather to get out on the water and relax, doing what we do best -- he fishing, me reading my book.
It starts like this:
He: "Pretty nice day out there."
He: "Could be a good day on the lake."
He: "Did ya' wanna go fishin', did ya?"
End of discussion. I pack the lunch. He packs the rod and tackle box. We start the car. Heaven, here we come.
It's a short, scenic drive to the small picturesque village where the boat is docked. The main street leads directly downhill toward the marina, revealing a breath-taking vista of the lake and distant Long Point stretching out on the horizon like a beckoning, crooked finger.
It is this first glimpse of the water that tells us everything we need to know -- wind direction, water conditions, activity in and out of the harbour. It is also the heady drug of anticipation that fuels our optimism and heightens our sense of adventure.
Out on the bay, I recline in the sunshine on the bench seat, book propped up on my chest, legs thrown over the seat back, feet hanging off the edge. George, meanwhile, pulls up a folding chair and drops his line in the inky blackness of the water. He baits and casts and reels. We both revel in the quiet beauty of our surroundings.
Overhead, gulls swoop lazily. Clouds billow and disperse. Sunlight produces diamonds sparkling on the surface of the water. All is quiet, except for the sporadic sound of another boat in the distance and the rhythmic slap of water against the pontoons.
If you believe in a spiritual energy field generated by "Mother Nature", on days like this, you just want to heed that call, and "come to Mama".