Pilgrimage by canoe
Every summer I like to pack up my swim trunks and take leave of the city to visit my parents and my old stomping grounds. The hot dry pine-scented days in the interior are filled with swimming and reading and eating food fresh from the garden. And for the past several years we've added an annual 5 day canoeing camping expedition into the works. It's good. Very good.
5 days on a crisp cool lake, sleeping on beaches, exploring old prospector cabins, endless swims. The days are often stiflingly hot but the lake is always right at hand. And then in the evening, if we're lucky (and we often are) a great big thunderstorm will roll in, crashing and banging and rolling through the valley, throwing the world into a searingly purple blue bright relief for a split second. The thin walls of the tent are hammered with rain, shaking under the roaring skies. And then by morning it is calm and quiet all over again, the heat quickly building, and you roll out of the tent and jump right into the water to start another day.