Photo/Writing Prompt: Motion
There were numerous reasons to love the lake. Everyone had a favorite. For Alex, it was the movement. The lake was ever in motion. Even when it appeared so, it was not still. There would always be a current beneath the surface. Tides would roll in and back out. The lake wasn’t capable of stillness.Therein was the romance, in Alex’s opinion.
That perpetual movement meant you could not be still if you were to be a part of it. Swimming, floating, boating. Either move yourself or let the lake move you. True stillness was not an option.
Alex’s favorite hours to kayak were at dawn when the surface was as close to motionless as it could manage. Paddling until she was surrounded by water a quarter mile in any direction, then laying that paddle across her knees, Alex let the lake have the helm. Often she could see straight down to the ribbed sand 12 feet below. Picking an object still discernible on shore, usually a tree, Alex would watch it to gauge where and how far the lake took her when she offered no resistance.
Nothing soothed, excited, or satisfied like the endless motion of the lake.