I gently lowered the canoe into the calm water. Matt stood behind me, clutching the two oars, anxious to start fishing. Ripples rose to life and expanded out into the vast lake, quiet trumpets that announced our entry into the cool blue realm.
The sun crept over the looming trees that surrounded the lake, its golden rays filtered through the thick greenery. The air was muggy and humid, a teaser of the coming heat the day would bring. Wildlife chirped and cooed around us as we carefully stepped into the canoe, the beautiful morning bringing with it an air of excitement.
Matt and I had been trying to go fishing for weeks. Work and previous engagements delayed our plans until finally, gloriously, our schedules lined up.
Earlier that morning, Matt had picked me up at the apartment, already geared up for our big day. As I groggily climbed into his pickup, wiping sleep from my eyes, I saw an array of poles, tackle boxes, and coolers in the bed of his truck. We were finally going fishing. It didn’t take long for me to wake up.
“How did you find this place again?” I asked Matt as he handed me an oar and pushed us off from the bank.