July 26,27,28

I stared into the sky tonight and stopped. A golden red whirlpool spun over the mountains above Westbank. A red dragon flew toward the spinning mists as the setting disc lit the final embers of the sunset. I stopped to breathe in the moment. Holding hands with Krista we took time to soak it all in.

We walked home from Whiski Jacks pub and were awed and humbled by the evening sky. Dark reds painted the glowing sky. Framed by tree-covered mountains, the heavens were lit by the glory of another sunset. I connected with my honey and my surroundings as we walked twenty minutes uphill to our piece of paradise.

Days have passed each other in a flash lately. I have loved every minute, I am looking for a break. Only just a little though. The last three days have passed in the blink of an eye. Life on the water in paradise; things have been busier and precious time has flown for me. I have missed my writing and my friends, but complaining is a waste of that valuable resource called time.

Days have heated up and we seek reprieve from the sun. The sun that beats down like a hammer upon my head when I step out of the shade – a wall of heat greets me when I leave the shelter of air conditioning. I love it. As we feel the discomfort of the summer heat, it envelopes us and holds us in its grasp. Relief can be found in the lake or in my neighbours pool. Even a tiny mister spraying in the yard gives a slight reprieve from the incessant heat.

But it’s a dry heat.

These are the days we wait for all winter when we huddle for warmth in front of a roaring fire. It is a time that many of us desire and enjoy because it is so fleeting. Yet in other parts of the world, the heat can be oppressive and deadly. A balance is what we seek in life. Balance of weather, of health, and of connection. Some of us are very lucky to have one balance out. In these times of strangeness, I am fortunate to find all three.

I have spent the last three days on the boat with guests from other parts of Canada. Many of them have their own story to tell; I make sure they tell it from a safe distance. Most respect the social distance measures we have taken. Many feel they are fortunate to be in Canada. We are in a place that has done well holding the viral enemy at bay. Our health officials keep reminding us we can’t let our guard down. Unfortunately, some have and now we have a spike in cases amongst younger people in Kelowna. Hovering in the back of my mind I am aware of the risks when people step on our boat. It is becoming normal to stay back from people, to maintain space and distance, but also to trust. I hope we can continue to trust.

In the morning we set out early in search of the mystical giant Rainbow Trout. We set our lines on the back of Serendipity and trolled the glassy waters of Okanagan Lake. Lures flashing below the surface we seek the reward of latching on to a lake lunker. My three guests on Luxury Lake Tours understood the reality; it’s called fishing, not catching.

Then it happened.

One of the rods started to bend and the zing of the line spinning out awoke the boat in excitement and anticipation. My guest asked me to grab the rod and start to bring it in. It was a big one. One we seek for and hope to latch on to. I was thrilled and hopeful to reel in a prize for my new friends. I eased the line in and then cupped the reel as line began to peel out. The tension lessened as the aquatic beast turned and started to swim toward the boat. Frantically I began to crank the reel, hoping to stay ahead of the fish as it swam towards me.  Our guests grabbed the other rods and reeled them in to give me room and keep them from getting tangled.

A silver flash broke the surface and we knew it was a big one. I raised the rod in the air in an effort to bring our prize. I couldn’t reel fast enough as it turned again toward the boat. My stomach sank, the tension was gone, and so was our prize. It would now become a story of the one that got away. Shaking with frustration I set the rod down into its holder. Our excitement now turned to disappointment. The lake lunker was back into the depths enjoying its freedom. Our guests were alive with the excitement of the moment. They settled back in to await another bite, another hope.

We did not go in empty-handed as one of my intrepid fishermen was watching the lines and reeled in a nice pan fryer. It was a consolation prize in the heat of the morning; they smiled wide and left the boat for home. The three gentlemen retained a memory of a fish that got away and one they could cook. Rewarded with an Okanagan adventure we all felt a connection with the shared experience.

Safe and home with my wife we revel in our daily existence. We continue to share with each other all that we can, knowing that life can be just as fleeting as the one that got away or the red sky that disappeared with the setting sun.