Paddle and Float

"River run
And brother row
And the ease between us
The calm below"
 - Riverswim, by The Decemberists


I went stand-up paddle boarding with my brothers Haven and Shepherd. They had done it with me once before and said yes immediately when I asked if they would like to go during my brief visit to the States.

We had trouble finding the place due to poor directions and it having been a while since we'd last been, so when we finally parked we had a brisk one-mile walk across a bridge and along the river to the dock.

 It had been raining off and on recently, however that Friday afternoon was perfectly clear. The sky was impossibly blue, stretching away past the tree line, past the high rises and sky scrapers of Austin, flecked with wispy white clouds which somehow looked more like a painting than real life.

 - They call it Lake Austin, but let's be honest; it's a river you paddle down one direction or the other, the dam sending power to the city and the scenic nature inviting people to walk along it's banks and dip into it's current. -

We rented our boards and glided out into the river, first on our knees and then standing, balancing carefully before planting our feet firmly apart, paddles in the water, back and forth and back and forth. We each found a rhythm, moving determinedly across the river towards the right side bank, then paddling onwards, stroke after purposeful stroke.

We passed kayakers and canoes. We paused to admire groups of turtles sunning themselves on logs, some of them craning their wrinkled necks at us before diving for safety. When we had paddled to an overpass, cars rushing overhead, we sat on our boards in the shade. Haven lay flat on his back, arms under his head. Shepherd and I followed suite. I closed my eyes: the river rocked me gently, and when I floated from under the bridge the sun warmed me to my core. I felt grounded, whole. I believed in that moment that I could float that way for hours, sleeping and waking and dreaming, the river below me, the sky above me, and my brothers nearby, ready to rise and paddle back when the time was right.

We didn't have hours, only two. So we paddled further, to a different bridge, then across the other side of the river and back, fighting the current towards the dock.

We walked back to the car, sun-kissed and thirsty. So much water, yet none to drink. My body felt taut from balancing and paddling, a kind of raw energy which both tires and awakens and ensures a deep sleep when one's head hits the pillow.

Maybe one day I'll save up and buy my own board and paddle. I'll take it out on the water as long as I like. Even now, if I lay flat on my back and close my eyes, I can conjure up the feeling of floating gently down the river, on and on to wherever the current leads.