Laser

We went sailing in the Laser yesterday, Brenna and I. I had intended to teach her how to sail it, but the breeze was too strong, took all my concentration (and at times all my strength) to control the boat myself. After skittering back and forth under the boom for a few minutes, she migrated to the bow. That got her plenty wet, but at least she could stay in one place. We zipped back and forth across the lake for an hour. She didn't say much, so like me as a teenager! We both love to sit and observe.

Sailing is an exhilarating, meditative act. Keeping the boat upright on Lake Fletcher is about as intense as having sex. The breezes are whimsical and unpredictable, even though you learn to see them coming and read their intentions. The only sound is of the boat breaking the waves, spray at the bow.

Last night was mild and damp. Moisture pressed through the screen windows, soaking into clothes, dissolving the clear boundary between flesh and atmosphere. It was not an unpleasant sensation: like how I imagine the feeling of being in a tropical rain forest, only 20°C cooler.

Brenna wanted to be measured this morning. She has grown another inch since last summer, now about 5'3½".

Sunday mornings, it's always so hard to leave, but I'm making good use of the place this summer.

What a shock it was, going from being immersed this morning in forest, lake and breeze, hardly a human being in earshot, to the Toronto Outdoor Art Exhibition this afternoon, drowning in culture and people by the thousands. It's good I got lots of rest this weekend.