A Crisp Copper Morning

November 09, 2019

A Crisp Copper Morning

 Catherine Rau

    Fall, Autumn, October, November, a season brimmed with outdoor adventure, excitement, and beauty. Nature blazes its brilliant hues alluring all to get out and bask in its splendor. No matter what you’re doing outside, you’ll be in for a treat surrounded by the simplistic charm Fall has to offer. For me, finding a time and place to experience the little details Fall boasts is the most captivating. This year, I found that spot at Lake Nockamixon in southeastern Pennsylvania. A boisterous scene of splashing and swimming in the summer months, it fades its buzz as the seasons change, leaving a peaceful pond of natural recluse.


          Bumping along back roads, windows cracked, the fresh air greets my cheeks with a crisp kiss good morning. Taking some sips of cider, the steam fogs my glasses as I feel the sweet-tart taste slowly warming my chest. While the radio faintly hums in the background, I smile to myself at the passing trees gleaming golden shades of amber in the early sunlight. As the speed limit slows and the roads turn to dirt the lake appears ahead, a bright shimmering blue. Like glass, the water rests awaiting its day of adventure.


            Pooling into the shallow water, canoe in hand, I can’t wait to get out on the lake. Paddling along layered in my favorite flannel, I’m left in awe of my surroundings. Amid the lake, I find myself surrounded in an amphitheater of the wild. Fish splashing up for their morning meal, loons taking flight skimming the sparkling water. Lili pads floating back and forth with the current. Deer in the distance rustling through the wooded pines. Hawks circling above, screeching out their morning calls. And the leaves alive in orange, yellow, red, and greens flaming in the blazing sun.


            Picking up my paddle again, I canoe further along the lake. In the quiet of the morning I can hear the gurgling of my paddle through the water with each stroke. I listen closely for the lapping of the lake against my canoe as it plunges leisurely through the water. Side to side, stroke, feather, stroke, feather I glide along the lake. With water droplets sliding off my oar, I rest my paddle to float among the murmuring waves. I feel the ebb and flow of the lake beneath my seat. I notice the reflection of the trees coloring my wake. To my left, an angler tosses out his lure in hope of a bite. In the distance, a regatta of sails take course as the sun strays west, peppering the lake with sprinkles of glistening sunlight. The water ripples and swells with adventure all about. 


            Docking along the rocky pier for a lunch break, I give my sea legs a rest back on land. Between bites, I breathe in the perfect Fall day. Peering through my binoculars to focus in on nature’s show, my eyes are met with a tiny red tugboat making wake across the calm water. Out for an afternoon cruise, maritime flags whipping in the wind and black tire buoys hung off its sides, it speeds along turning heads of lake goers left and right.


            Aboard my canoe, out for my last paddle before heading ashore, I take my time slowing my row across the miles and miles of open water. One last view of the trees bursting with orange, red, yellow, and greens. One last splash of a lone carp in the distance. One last brush of my fingers through the crystal-clear water. One last sip of my warm apple cider. And ten deep breaths of the crisp October air to savor before starting the journey back home.

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