On an evening like this I think I live in the most beautiful place in the world. We drove down a dead end road with signs posted, "slow, baby geese" at the corner. Pulling up to the boat ramp, we quickly unloaded the kayaks and gear and then John parked the truck. Our friends were already there and had their kayaks by the water ready to go. Within 10 minutes we were in the water, talking as we paddled across the little bass fishing lake.  The local volcano was framed perfectly between the trees and it felt remote.  Slowly we made our way across the lake around clusters of lily pads, quietly talking and then remaining silent and talking again.  We tuned into the rhythm of the lake as the water soothed and calmed us to the core. The boat gives me a little freedom that standing on the shore just doesn't do and I feel like I can see and feel the lake. I have become part of the life of the lake instead of the observer.  Slowly we made our way back to the boat ramp and our connection to the lake dripped away as our kayaks dried in the sun.