Come with me, there. The River winds itself around the islands placed randomly along its path. They glow pink granite among the steely blue water. The water always moves, running with hidden currents that ripple the surface. Grip your paddle as we go in my red canoe. Be careful it tips easily, so try to stay in the middle. It is calm out now, and everything glows from the rain droplets. The thunderstorm was short but intense and now the air is crisper, almost like fall. It reminds me of you. Four minks swim up to us. Their dark molten brown fur shows on their little heads as they come closer. A mom and her three babies. They don't see us until they are right up to us. Mom startles and quickly turns around. She raises her tail in alarm and it sticks out of the water like a wet whip. The crow family is in the trees above us. The youngsters are constantly cawing for food. The parents silently keep about the hunt as the young follow with demanding cries. One of them has white-tipped feathers. You can see their pink mouths as they yell.
The sun is setting as we go, following the line of the islands. The cottages mostly stand empty but a few people watch us as we pass. My hair is blowing out around me and my arms are strong as I pull the paddle in a rhythm. Don't worry I will steer us. We can weave in and out of rocky shores watching the spotted sandpiper dance on the edges of the rocks. The trees and brush reach into the water. They are hiding huge water snakes and a small yellow warbler who looks rather ragged.
We turn around the longest island to meet the sunset head on. A loon stretches its wings in the sunlight and calls its lonely cry. It echoes through us as we go. I turn and spot a heron, who is waiting in perfect stillness for his next meal. Suddenly as we reach home the sun dips below the tall white pines across the river, casting its orange and pink light to the waiting clouds above.