Personal Writing: The Lake

Personal Writing: The Lake
It was the middle of springtime and across from my house where the
incident took place. There was a lake there in which my brother and I loved to
explore from time to time. The humidity and waterdrops where reminiscent of a
fully functional sauna. The onslaught of heat and burning glow of the sun was
relentless. Nonetheless, this fact did not bother us one bit, but gave us more
incentive to dance with our cool and embracing “long-lost love”.

The first step of this operation was making sure that our neighbors had
gone away from the house for at least two hours. Since it was their lake and
property, this made it safe for us in not getting caught in the middle of our
escapade. Upon this, my brother and I snuck to their backyard like two
undercover police officers, until we were in the clear. Nerve-wracking minutes
later, flowed the emerald green and ever-so lively lake in front of us. We
stopped and starred in awe. The lake had appeared so shiny and reflective, it
resembled a finely-cut diamond. The rare and distinct fragrance enticed us. It
smelled like mother-nature herself, with aromas ranging from wildlife and wet
grass, to evaporated swamp water and healthy dirt.

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Then, the time for us to find the desired vessel arrived. We chose the
kayaks, and set out for the water. Carefully, with our torn-jeans rolled up,
and shirts off, we dragged the massive thing over the slope of grass and mud
into the shallow stream. We then hopped aboard, grabbed the paddles, and
floated and splashed into nowhere. The wavy current sucked us downstream,
periodically bouncing us off of sandbags and sharp branches leaning over the
water- Now that was true adventure! Minutes later, my brother and I, after
passing under many pipes and tunnels, floated into a huge “cul de sac” of water,
with an island in the center. In our amazement, we paddled there as vigorously
as toddlers learning to swim. We tied the kayaks to a thin branch with the
slimy green rope mysteriously attached to them, and hopped onto the island. We
basked in pure amazement.

After the tempo settled, we started our natural brotherly routine. My
brother and I sat on the muddy bank, with our feet dipped in water, and threw
stones out as far away as we could in our competitive nature. We set aside our
differences, and together, bonded. My newfound companion and I sat, laughed,
fought, played, and talked, as the sun slowly left us.

At this point it did not matter what happened to us for taking the kayaks,
because whatever it was, it could not replace the priceless experience we
shared with one another.



I'm Lydia!

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