On the Waterfront
Last Friday night my wife and I took a two hour cruise down the Augusta Canal in a Petersburg boat. This was a replica of one of the boats that used to ferry cotton down the canal, basically floating with the current and steered by pole. There was a musician playing hammer dulcimer and guitar, providing a pleasing soundtrack to our first canal boat tour.
There is something magical about seeing things from a different perspective. Sitting in a boat at water level, the grand textile factories and powderworks of centuries gone by roll slowly past. The Butt Memorial bridge with its pure white surface and shielded lions rides close to the surface and is home to thousands of birds. The great blue heron who pretends not to see us until he flaps and rises, circling us twice and flying upstream, majestic in his beauty and simplicity.
We experience a fiery sunset, gold and orange and green like liquid fire pouring beteeen the trees and spilling out onto the water.
We hear how the music changes as we go under bridges. We see the Christmas red and green of the old Graniteville mill sign, perfectly reflected on the darkening water.
Wine, cheese, and crackers.
Love for each other and contentment just to be floating down a canal by the Savannah river.
Happiness last Friday evening was being on a boat.