Treasure Island

I could hear the water lapping quietly onto the dry rocks warmed by the sun. My body lay face down, covered with cool water droplets, slowly dripping and sinking onto the rock beneath me. My breath came quickly, and my heart pounded as it pushed blood and oxygen into my exhausted muscles. Eyes closed, my head lay on the rough surface, savoring the warmth. Chilly water from the lake surrounding me dripped off my hair that was sprawled around my head. As my breath finally slowed and I was able to hear over my heartbeat, I opened my eyes. The glitter of sunlight off the water danced with the calling loons. The bright cloudless sky sang with laughter. The thumping of bare feet running across the dock echoed through the rock into my ear. The thumping ended with a simple pause before the explosive splash. Feeling I was missing more of the fun I lifted my head off the warm rock. Looking down I saw the outlined water frame of my face pressed firmly against the heat. The pooling water transformed the rock to a deep rich brown. The breeze picked up and goosebumps quickly traveled up my body, waking my senses. Jumping up, I moved quickly, back towards the dock. Soft pine needles padded the ground beneath me while hidden mounds of curved rocks raised up from under these pines creating natural stepping stones. I practiced the natural dance of leaping from rock to rock along the well worn path. Sure footed and smiling I embraced every moment. The rocks ended as the weathered wood of the dock appeared. I looked back and saw little wet footprints remembering the journey. The sound of another splash caught my attention and turning back towards the dock, I managed to catch a glimpse of a cousin hitting the water. The aunts, who had created house on one of the floating docks with books and wine, now jumped and squealed with laughter as the water came flying their way. Dropping their towels over their well marked books they jumped up and ran to join the rest on the main dock. I moved past the rambunctious group and sat carefully on the edge of the dock, comfortable with not being thrown into the icy water. The wood grain of the dock etched deep and I was careful to avoid splinters. Looking down into the dark water I could see large sleepy fish lurking in the farther shadows, away from the thrashing bodies. The surrounding trees bent permanently with the wind while beavers built mansions casually in the quiet waters of the adjoining bays. This place was special, and if you paid close enough attention, you could hear it sharing it’s secrets.