My Watermark is Madawaska River, Ontario.
When I was young at the river, I felt the warm summer breeze as I paddled through the calm water. Looking at the deep green scenery of the trees and bushes as their branches waved in the breeze. Once in awhile, we would reach rapids where we would have to sit on the floor of the canoe so that we wouldn’t tip over as we rushed past the growing waves. Screaming with joy as the cold water slapped our faces when we dipped through waves and crevices and jagged rocks.
When I was young at the river, we would take long hikes up Jamieson Mountain sometimes having to climb and search for footholds as the surface grew rockier near the top. Wandering ahead of the group with a friend close by my side, we would go exploring in searching for new adventures. Seeing and experiencing wildlife face to face. As we finally reach our destination gaping at the view it seemed as if we were on top of the world.
When I was young at the river, we would swim through the rapids desperately trying to stay above the water as it tried to tug us down. Using our arms to steer and avoid the sharp rocks poking out of the water. Trying to get a hold of the slippery seaweed bottom so we wouldn’t float too far from land. We would end up with cuts and bruises from the rocks but it wouldn’t matter because we were having too much fun.
As the day started to end and the colourful lights from the sunset would flood the skies, we would climb out of the water, shivering as the cool air of the evening hit us. We could begin to see the faint glow of a growing fire and smell the sweet aroma of dinner cooking over an open fire. When I was young, I would spend weeks looking forward to our trips at the river. I was always content at the river and I always will be.