Four Days

     I already miss the quiet. The noise and busyness began on the drive home. Two track driveway, gravel road, two lane highway, and finally four lanes for the last hundred-fifty miles. Traffic built and my brain returned to living in the world of white stripes and two tone, seventy-mile per hour slabs of steel and plastic. The drive home is always far more tiring than four days on the waters and in the woods. No doubt about that. Life's border line primitive at the cabin and sure hard to leave.
     It almost took more gumption than I could muster to load the canoe and fish a little. Though I enjoy all parts of being on the water, fishing has become not much more than a reason to paddle out. Also there's the matter of physical pain when paddling into a breeze. Caught a four pound bass on the fifth cast and a similar fish about as many casts from the end. They bracketed two afternoons on the water when the scenery was the highlight.
     I ran through my lake possibilities many times before deciding on proven water. Both lakes are around a hundred and fifty acres and hold enough fish to keep me upbeat about catching something. Been on both enough times to take the guesswork out of where to fish but the idea was to work as much shoreline as the wind would allow. Each day would give me close to three miles paddling, enough upper body exercise to assure joint pain in my aged body. I have no idea how fast I can cover water these days but for sure there were times it felt like I was dragging an anchor. and left no doubt I'd have to be cautious in setting mileage goals should I ever attempt a solo trip in the Boundary Waters. Probably not going to happen but I still get a kick out of daydreaming.
     What I enjoyed most was time in the woods when the deer and wood ticks were wherever they go in the fall. In the last couple of years we've had a few blow downs. The sight of a busted and hanging oak is not something I enjoy and have spent a few hours since last year pruning damaged tree trunks. At the moment I've sawn and split enough hardwood to last till Lois and I pass on. In fact a fair amount of the wood will turn to soil before we can get to it. Never gave it much thought in my youth that someday my enthusiasm for work would outpace my ability. I guess there's not much doubt that day has arrived.
     More than anything, what gives me pleasure is being able to set my own pace—work when I want and rest when I damned well feel like it. Suppose I could do the same at home but that's not the way I've wired myself. Next time around I'll work on that.