As soon as we heard it both of us doubled over laughing, and it got funnier as the morning wore on. Every time we dipped our paddles into a raft of duckweed, unseen ice crackled. We had known it was a cold morning on that North Carolina pond, but the ice was quite a surprise.
Margaret and I had paddled canoes before, but this was the first time either of us had canoed without spouses along. We were in charge that day – the whole weekend, in fact – and it felt good to explore at our own pace. Two days and hundreds of photos later we returned, tired but happy, to our young families.
My oil painting from that morning hangs at Dad’s house, a warm reminder of long-ago giggles and crackly water.