It was still dark as I pushed my canoe into the current. Time was not a factor and I let it drift at the mercy of the of the current. Slowly it spiraled downstream as I made small adjustments in the placement of gear in the boat. And then as the morning sky lightened, I picked up my paddle, and paused a moment to watch the coming show.
Slowly the edge of the sun appeared in a sliver of clear horizon and lit from below a torn and ragged bank of far away clouds that lay across the eastern sky.
The red tint of sunlight increased and spread outward and upward through the jumbled greyness and it highlighted with white, the more pronounced of the forms and shapes of clouds controlled by an unseen breeze.
Then suddenly it changed without prelude and the picture was complete.
A raging red and orange calamity of colors emerging through a high wall of thunderheads that ruled the eastern sky. I couldn’t look away as red and yellow rays radiated outward and the scene hypnotized my mind.
I felt the rush of beauty wash over me as a shower might have done and left me drenched with an appreciation of the beauty of the coming day. I felt small and isolated in the presence of such a stunning display of colors.
And was compelled to offer a small prayer of thanks for this magnificent dawn I had been allowed to witness.
As I finally dipped the blade into the water and firmly pulled to straighten my vessel with the current, my movement startled a beaver lingering upon the bank. With a quick rush the beast, small and young, splashed into the river and was gone. Leaving a ring of waves, rippling the surface and expanding outward to my boat.
The sun was now hidden by the cloudbank to the east and an eerie green tint lit the world through which I paddled. The odd light was surprisingly crisp and clear beneath the now overcast sky. And surprisingly beautiful as well, illuminating every detail in the soft clear brilliance that can only be seen before an impending storm.
With a thought to the futility of my actions, I donned my slicker and pulled my hat down tightly as the first gusts rattled the river and a spurt of sprinkles plastered me and the water around. Now a second and stronger wave of rain rolled past and then the slow steady drum of the shower began to beat on my slicker and my boat and the river’s now shattered surface.
Small explosions and splashes erupted with each drop, covering the water and dancing past in swirling waves, as the storm increased and I felt the first rivulets of water run down my cheeks and neck and enter my collar. Such a minor inconvenience in the glory of the storm I did not mind.
The wind increased and battered the bow and I was thankful for the heavy pack stowed forward that helped hold it down. But my strokes increased and became more erratic as I fought to hold my course into the wind.
The torrent increased by the moment and I guided the boat at a gentle angle away from midstream, seeking the cover of a lee bank and the treeline above. And so passed a spell of wet discomfort and glorious wonder at the intensity of the storm.
And then in moments it passed. The sun was exposed to reclaim the morning and it bathed me in a warmth that penetrated my damp clothes.
Its rays shone through the treeline above the bank, wet and bright and glistening, and displayed a myriad of diamond-like sparkles from every limb and fresh spring leaf.
It traced as well, a brightly shimmering line across the river toward my boat. As though God himself were pointing at me and commanding my notice of this wonderfull world through which I now drifted. And I removed my rain gear and let the sun warm and dry my damp shirt as I planted the paddle and pulled.
Regaining mid stream, I lost the sparkle off the trees but widened my perception of the glory of the river. It was larger and brighter and cleaner than I had perceived before.
And it goes on, I thought, for a thousand miles. A small eternity of distance and beauty lay before me. And the paddle strokes were no effort at all as my humble little craft glided silently, like a waterborne starship into the coming day.
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