Lake

One of those fall days when the air is so clear I can see each leaf in detail against the blue sky. I float around the cove in my inner tube. After a while I roll off, fling the tube onto the dock, drop below the surface. I swim through columns of light, knowing where all the rocks are, where the patches of waterlilies are, everything about the cove. I go down deep, roll onto my back, hold my nose and look at the sky and the trees through the water as I rise. When I get close to the surface, I can see my reflection for a second, and then I'm out.

Later, I will wrap up in a big towel and sit on the dock to watch the loons and the boats. When I hear Mom ring the bell, I'll go up the path to the house for dinner. After dark, Dad might come back down with me to look at the stars.