Unexplainable

I have tried many times in this space to explain unexplainable things, my complicated political views, the romance of baseball, the allure of grace. But, how do I explain this?

At Loon Landing, sunsets were served to us on our deck. We would often eat dinner while the sun dipped behind the fir trees across the lake. Here, at Loon Call Cottage, we have to go search for the sunset. There’s an island blocking our view, so each night we all head out from our dock around 8 o’clock, Pam leading the way on her paddle board, the rest of us tagging along behind on our kayaks and canoes. We paddle around the corner of the towering trees, skidding past the lily pads, watching the rocks drift by underneath us. Last night, the water was like glass. We left a bit later than usual, worried that we would miss it, but our late departure resulted in an eagle sighting, yet another serendipitous gift. Once the corner of the island is passed the entire lake opens up and we fall silent. All around there is silence, even the loons hush. We drift along in the middle of the lake, its waters growing darker and silkier by the minute. 

Kaitlin drifts out ahead of us. Her silhouette brings out my cell phone. I take a picture knowing it will be inadequate.

Pam paddles in a different direction, as often she does, seeing something the rest of us don’t. 

I’ve seen better sunsets, lots of them. There is nothing especially noteworthy about this one. It was just the four of us on the water. The later hour meant there were no other boats out. The wind was down. We drifted along in silence trying to find a way to express what was in our hearts. In these silky black waters there is no COVID. There is no politics. There is no racism. It’s just us, at peace.

We hear the bark of a dog, then the call of a loon. The sound races across the water’s surface disguising its origin. Pam is a hundred feet away from me. She speaks in a hushed voice yet I can hear every word. It’s getting dark. We better head back.

This is how our days end here, weather permitting. For me its a new experience, but Pam has been doing it for years. I’ve never understood why, before. “We can see all the beauty from our deck” I would say. But, she would take her paddle board out anyway disappearing across the lake, always coming back in the dark. After going with her these past few nights I finally understand. But, understanding and being able to explain are two different things. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe something so solemn doesn’t need explaining. It just is.