For example, Jon and I thought we should take a little 3-hour class in kayaking before venturing out on our own. However, by the time we actually sat in the kayak and pushed off into the water, I wanted to leave that little teacher behind and figure it out for myself, in the quiet of the day. At one point when I was waiting (waiting, waiting) while she instructed us, I was fiddling around with my oar (thinking of a line of Donovan's "a simple act of an oar's stroke put diamonds in the sea"), and she stopped to ask me what I thought I was doing. "Just playing," I humbly giggled, feeling as busted as a kid in junior high.
So if I go out and die while kayaking in the future, it can all be blamed on my not listening properly to my teacher.
Rusty, Kayak Zak's dog, looking quite debonair:
Digitalis----foxglove----growing wild near Lake Earl, where we kayaked:
