I sit in front of a gorgeous lake, whose waters reflect the faded blue of the cloud-streaked sky. Well, the sky isn't so much streaked, as it is peppered with tufts of cotton. Two white fans pivot their heads, sending a breeze in my direction every once in a while as they survey the vacated room. I am alone, but for three pekingese dogs and one very horney chihuahua. The gentle lapping of the waves is inaudible above the whispered murmur of the fans, and the buzzing of the lawn mower pacing the lawn next door. Yes, it is summer at Wild Goose bay indeed, and I have stolen away a quiet moment in an otherwise fairly interesting day. I am reflective, as are the waves across the bay, which mirror the boats and houses at the bay's tip, the penninsula in streaks of bold colour.
Though I do remember now why I despise dial-up so greatly. And I miss my proper computer mouse.
Mmm, old musicals are wonderful, especially when shared in the proper company.
I had a driving lesson today, which was not nearly so calm as the scene before me. But then I suppose that was a given . . . yes, indeed. I had my first crack (not to be confused with heroin, eh?) at traffic lights, and also attempted to parallel park. I drove to camp. I survived a four way stop! And I drove eighty, whoo!
But now all is serene, tranquil, and quiet. And that is just the way I like it. I will not take to the roads and disturb the fragile peace for quite a while. Citizens of Canada, you are safe until tomorrow.
thunder bay
