Trinity Lake - Day 7 - Afternoon

 By 10:30 a.m., I am packed, in the canoe, and on my way across the south bay of

Trinity Lake.
I am, in a word, ecstatic.
And perhaps exhausted, mentally, from the invasion of memories which have been circling in my head.

I jumped from the cliff.

I did it, without thinking too much about it - just did it.
Perhaps, being on my own, this was easier.
Easier without an audience.
The hard part, as it turned out, was finding the pen.
I dove down again and again looking for a small straight 'stick' among the green rocks and sandy bottom.
Until it finally occurred to me that a plastic-cased drawing pen probably would float, and there it was, lapping gently against the rocky shoreline.

Three times in my life I have been to this cliff.

The first time - 1966, age 11, on the Loop.

The second time - 1974,  age 19, with Bud and Wren.


                                                     *


The third time - 2014, age 59, by myself.


                                                     *

August, 1974

The canoe trip happened.

If I can separate out my emotions of today from what I was feeling then, I'd have to admit that it was a singularly fantastic week. 
Having Bud on a canoe trip was amazing. We got so that each one of us complemented what the others did. We had, except for one night, perfect weather. Wren and I, having done the route before, were the experts, Bud happy to do the grunt work, hauling, heavy lifting, cutting firewood.
In the evenings, exhausted, happy, full of conviviality, we cooked, drank wine, talked, laughed.
Bud shone in this environment.
Wren was so up for this week - funny, relaxed, open.
By the halfway point, I realized that these were the two people I loved most in the world.

It was, perhaps, an unconventional dynamic.

Yes, I can see that. 

But everything felt complete with the three of us, felt like, well,

a circle,

a circle of love, flowing from one to the other. 

For me, it was perfect.