Quiet, windless waters gave us permission to rest. My job is to be sure the anchor is set, and his to shut off the motor with my thumbs up. Done. The tug from the anchor will now dictate the passing of a day on the lake. We move with nudges from the wind and wake from passing boats. The tug is a simple reminder, a reassurance that we are anchored, and yet my camera tells another story about this day that passes by ME.
Our quiet was interrupted by the sound of splashes and gut-drenching laugher from a boat in front of us, and a passing boat made sure we were all privy to his taste in music: “And even though we ain’t got money, I’m so in love with you honey….” You know the rest.
We were still singing a when plane skimmed the water and there was a distant braying of wild burros.
The lake wakes up as the day moves along and I wonder if the kayakers in the distance can hear the burros too; or do they care?
The burros emerged with a foal in tow, with the same energy as a squirrel hunting for nuts. I have fallen in love with the wild burros of our desert oasis. They were brought to Lake Pleasant by transient prospectors searching for gold in the late 1800’s. The burros often wandered off and found the Sonoran Desert conducive to their needs and so they stayed.
The rest of the day brought a chance to sketch scenery, swim, and people-watch like the drone that hovered overhead, momentarily. We continued to sway with the anchor, while the drone moved to the shoreline, and back to it’s camp across the lake.
I cringe to think the sun is setting. The anchor is released with another thumbs up, and the ride back to the marina brings a chuckle about the transient events of the day. It’s funny how we moved through the day without really moving at all.
That’s a wrap.