Morning paddling on the Ottawa River !

   
    When the sun was still quietly hidden behind the fog curtain, the sky was haunted by the forest blanket, partially green, partially purple and partially black. 

 6 a.m. on the Ottawa River

I was awaken by my Enrique Iglesias alarm clock at 5:30 am. The air was cold with a little damp, river funk smell. The smell was comforting and fresh, reminding of the nap during each kayak trip with my instructors from Hopkins. It was that smell. I rolled out of my down sleeping back, put my kayaking gear on and head to the river. A tiny sunray escaped from the horizon, like a sharp medieval knight’s sword, cutting across the sky. 

I exhaled all the way from the bottom of my lung, attempting to pull out all of the fatigue and frustration from the previous day. Then I took a deep breath, trying to fill up my lung with energy, fresh air and spirit of nature. Taking the first stroke of the day on the Mighty Ottawa.

Sun rise. baby face wave

            Dark green water,

            The dark purplish sky it reflects.

            I took the first stroke with my pitch-dark carbon paddle,

            Surfing on the mighty Ottawa River, the dark Ottawa.

            On the wave, carving form left to right and then back to the left,

            I screamed, “This is life!”