LATE SUMMER ON LAKE SEBAGO
I wobble, thump and slosh and buckle till I'm sitting, legs extended, snug within the slender kayak resting still on slushy gravel. I heave my bulk a few times forward, grating graceless inch by inch until I feel the bow go weightless, buoyant, silent, floating free. I scoop a paddleful of water,... Sign in to see full entry.