lands full of grandeur

My eyes wandered across the lake as it sparkled on a bright, summery American day in Holliston, Massachusetts. “Ordinary”, I thought, “just like any other lake”. I was soon to be mistaken.

My friend and I made our way to a dilapidated shed to hire a kayak. In his articulate American drawl the gentleman behind the counter stated the price: “twenty five dollars thanks.” We slipped into the kayak and eagerly took our paddles, ready to join our fellow water men (and women) on this vast expanse of water. Taking off, the soft waves lapped at the sides of the kayak as we chattered back and forth between us.

As we glided along I took in my surroundings; the lake was encased by trees so green and lush that I felt as though I were weaving my way through a Monet masterpiece. My eyes turned and came to rest on a group of tourists in a large paddle boat who were so unsynchronized with each other that the boat turned in circles. Inwardly I chuckled. I was brought back to earth from these hazy reflections by my friend who said “I want to show you something.” I let her direct and simply paddled with her.

On the right side of the lake was a channel, we paddled through and a small circular enclave of water met my eyes. Here the trees enclosed the water in an almost united embrace, shading it from the sky. We reached a concrete tunnel where water flowed towards us; we would have to swim against the current.

Our first Attempt was futile; we made it half a metre into the tunnel before the current abruptly swept us in the right direction back to where we came from. But quitting wasn’t in our nature and after eight attempts we made it into the tunnel. Paddles were useless here; instead we reached for the walls and clawed our way through the darkness towards the light at the other end. Upon reaching the other side we paddled out of yet another small circular enclave. It was then that I plunged into awed silence, speech had no place here.

Like the eerie stillness of the doldrums, where wind and water pause to linger aimlessly around the equator, I was lost to all chaotic rancor of the ‘normal’ world. This offshoot of the lake was “other worldly” – a mystical experience on its own. Akin to a crystal ball, the surface of the water reflected my inner yearnings of stillness and calm in a country lost to digital commotion. Not a sound was heard, nor breeze blew. We simply lapsed back in our seats and basked in the euphoria of the transcendent natural beauty surrounding us.