Ah, swimming. There’s the excitement of climbing down the ladder by the dock, and into the close-to-home waters. Then there’s the fun and adventure of swimming to the island, and exploring the paths, rocks, and beaver-felled trees there. But there was another experience from last year that Cameron desperately wanted to repeat.
He asked at the wrong times at first. When we were heading up to make dinner. When we weren’t taking the boat out. When it was already late in the evening. When we had other things to dash off to do.
Finally, heading back from a nearby town by boat, he got his wish.
We anchored the boat in the deeper, cooler waters of the lake, just off a pink, red, and grey granite cliff, for a swim. I think Bill and Cameron were the first in the water, followed by Mom. I waited a bit, to take pictures.
Okay, and for some bizarre reason, swimming off the boat gives me the heeby-jeebies.
Still, I got in. Once I’m in I’m okay. Once I’m in I get why Cameron loves doing this so much.
Cameron spent some time swimming with Granna – close to the security of her arms, close enough to sploosh and have some fun. He loves matching up feet and swooshing away, again and again.
Gleefully, Cameron followed Grandpa Bill under the boat. It’s a pontoon style boat, a deck suspended above the water on two pontoons, so there’s lots of headspace under there. The water laps with a hollow sound, voices echo, and the diffused light gives the water beneath you and eerie glow of green. It’s not my favourite place to be, but it sure is one of Cameron’s. He loved going under there with his Grandpa Bill, and hooted and hollered to hear his own voice echoed back at him.
It’s peaceful. It’s free. It’s somehow different from swimming off the dock.