Open Water

April 25 2017

The first canoe

was on the lake

before the ice was out.

But until the boat cleared the point

I couldn't be sure

those were voices I heard,

chitchatting

so unnaturally loud,

broadcast

from who-knows-where.

How sound carries

on open water.

Where the ice

wind-driven, and dull with slush

was nicely off shore.

I was shocked

by its glossy paint,

fire-engine red

against the water's grey chop,

the drab tufts of grass

and low leafless shrubs,

the dark jumble of rocks

half-submerged.

3 brightly dressed bodies, in a tippy boat,

its gunwales barely clearing

the lethal cold.

How hungry we must be

for sun, and open water

after winter's long hard slog.

Like starving prisoners

stumbling from our frigid cells

into unaccustomed light,

blinking, and rubbing our eyes.

They paddled lazily

zig-zagging along the shore,

not fishing

or racing

or out to explore;

a convivial boat ride

on the first warm day.

As if oblivious

to instant death

mere inches away.

It had been forever since we'd been down to the beach. (I use “beach” in its broadest sense. If you're picturing a manicured spread of tropical sand, think again!) I wanted to see how the break-up was coming along, and if there was enough open water for the dogs to swim.

Could those be voices? Could they be coming from the woods, across the narrows? No, it couldn't be: was someone actually out canoeing, in this lethally cold water? I looked hard, before I saw them, appearing from just behind the point and heading this way.

I would never be out in a boat, this time of year. My reaction was admiration and envy, mixed with pity at doing something so dangerously naive.

Now a few comments about some of the choices I made.

I was very surprised to find myself writing “nicely out from shore”. I've always regarded “nice” as a weasel word: too wishy-washy for poetry. And then to use the adverb – my least favourite part of speech -- no less! But something about it works here. Perhaps this is nothing more than the simple resonance between “ice” and “nicely”. Or maybe it's the implication that the open water was just inviting enough.

“Gunwales” can also be “gunnels”. But I prefer the traditional nautical spelling. Which is OK, as long as this isn't an unfamiliar spelling that the reader then sounds out literally.

I'm pleased with “fire engine red”. It not only captures the startling contrast in colour, it conveys a sense of emergency: a telling bit of foreshadowing that makes sense with the final stanza.