Stillness has permeated my life. Spring has always been a time of wind. Frantic movement – paring down, packing up, getting going. The snow is melting, the rivers are swelling, river season is beginning. The time of movement. But not this year. This spring is lakes. This year there is no packing up, only staying put. My truck is empty, my river gear is on a shelf, and we have been taking our raft fishing on local lakes. My body is at odds with itself. My bones itch for movement, but I relish the calm. I know the wind will blow again, but now is the season of lakes.
