And the grass grows taller

Today instead of getting right to work on the mowers and cutting the grass, or cleaning the house, I took a canoe trip down the Rivanna river. The trail I hike goes along the river so I've been watching it and it's just about perfect right now. The high water and muddiness is down from the last rain we had, but it still has enough water to be flowing nicely. This same stretch of river would be a 2-3 hour trip in the summer, but today it was just under two. I had found the canoe on Craigslist last summer or fall. It's a small one, probably 12 feet, so I can handle it by myself both in and out of the water.

In my canoe fantasy, it's me and a dog, with the dog sitting up front, enjoying the scenery with me as I casually paddle along. Fortunately, I'm a stone cold realist when it comes to dogs and I just could not envision any dog of mine actually doing that. What I could imagine is a dog standing unsteadily in the canoe, falling or jumping in, dumping me and everything out.

So I went alone. It was immediately apparent that I made the right choice. Even if there had been room for a dog in front (there wasn't), it would have been in danger of being whacked with the paddle or at least splattered with water because in order to paddle a canoe solo, you have to frequently switch the paddle from the left to the right side of the canoe.

I saw some ducks, and a pair of geese that let me get surprisingly close probably because I wasn't making any sound that they themselves didn't make on the water.

I saw this bush or tree, in bloom, which I can't identify. I had seen one of them along the trail when hiking as well. It has flowers like some variety of viburnum. There was one beautiful dogwood but my picture came out blurry. There were many places along the shore that were covered in violets.

I used to do a lot of canoeing when I was younger, and I finally did so today because I was needing some upper body exercise and a break from the hiking. With time to kill floating down the river, my mind went off as it does, this time writing a few lines of verse about aging:

You can't swim, you can't hike
you can't fuck, you can't fight.

You can't drink, you can't smoke,
you can't dance and do coke.

Now, I'm certain there must be things I can do at 51 that I couldn't do at 21. I'm not sure what they are, but I'm sure they aren't any fun.

Just kidding folks. Today was a gorgeous day, the kind that makes you glad to be alive and able to do anything, even if it's not everything.

Now I'd better see if I can get a mower started and begin to reclaim this yard.