When I was young at the lake, I would jump in the water, either cold, warm or hot. It was exhilarating. I swam back to the dock and climbed the ladder. I went on my paddle board and did yoga out on the water. It was so peaceful gazing at the quiet lake and hearing the paddle make ripples in the calm waters as I held my balance strong and shifted into a yoga pose.

When I was young at the lake, I jumped in the water and heard it rush in my ears. At times, I would even reach the bottom and feel the ground squish under my feet. As I swam, the cool water flowed off my fingers. Sometimes, I would float about and get stuck in the lily pads! They smelt like flowers, and they felt slimy and strange. Often, I would pick them and feel their texture until it smoothed over and went away. Then, I would put it in the water and push it away, watching how the water moved behind it.

When I was young at the lake, I would run down all the steps to the dock with my arms out wide, feeling happy, energized and ready. I went all the way to the end of the dock and didn’t stop, but instead threw myself off the edge and into the water. I came up laughing as my parents walked down slowly. Feeling excited, I got ready for a day at the lake. When it was time to dry off, I jumped in one last time. I was a little sad to go, but happy that I had fun, and could relax for the rest of the day.

At the lake, I always woke up early so I could go in the canoe with Dad. My brother thought that he would fall out if he went in, but I loved our rides in the canoe. The feeling of the water gently rocking the boat relaxed me, and the lake looked so lovely as it calmly reflected the rising sun. We put on our life jackets and carefully climbed in. Our paddles made gentle ripples in the water as we reached the middle. We put our paddles down and Dad cast his fishing line far. As we waited for a bite, I silently thanked the water for the memories as I watched the sun rise.