Beyond the bow. . .

May 29th

This day we kayaked in a place that was totally new to us, but in once sense very familiar.

We kayaked on Big Creek Lake, a 3,600-acre reservoir in west Mobile County which serves as the public water supply for the Mobile metropolitan area. Although we have never kayaked on the lake before, or actually ever even seen it except from the highway, we have consumed water from it for decades. It's about time we became better acquainted.

Our close friend Steve picked us up and we loaded the three kayaks into the back of his SUV. How nice to not have to squeeze the boats into the trunk of our little car! Not a single bungee cord was needed. We headed to his mother's house on the Lake.

I didn't say anything to the guys, but I felt odd at first about kayaking on this lake. My grandmother had been killed there while I was a younger teenager. She however, would be delighted to know we had associated joy and pleasure with this beautiful piece of the Lord's creation, and after the first fleeting thought about it, it never entered my mind again.

I was amazed at both the vastness of the lake and the clearness of the water. Both surpassed my imagination. We loosely followed the shore line and every direction offered a gorgeous view. It was no less beautiful, though somewhat larger it seemed, than Walden Pond we had visited in Massachusetts on vacation.

The wind was just enough to keep us cool and the water temperature warm enough to not chill us.

We took easy strokes, letting the gentle rhythm of the lake be our guide and after an hour or so decided to head back. It was Steve's first time to kayak and we didn't want to tire him.

As usual, I didn't want to come out of the water. I loved the feel of the water slipping through my fingers, the lake droplets falling onto my arms and legs, and the sound of all the birds calling and crying in the surrounding trees.

I can't remember a more beautiful place we have kayaked. The scenery was absolutely perfect as was the company. It was a wonderful trip.