That fleeting moment of tranquility

 

Sunset at the lake in Tomball

When I was young, I had afavorite spot in the Indiana dunes where I would go in the early evening towatch the sun go down. It was a pathway, halfway up the high dune where ourcottage was on the ridge at the top. I could sit, accompanied by my wild colliemix named Timmy, and stare at the lake, smell the dune grass (and perhaps chewon a blade) and listen to the water either lap gently on the shore or crash,depending on the mood of Lake Michigan. I love the lake in all its moods, but Iused to be fascinated by the whitecaps when it was roiled up. I was in awe ofthe power in that mighty body of water.

If I looked at an angle to theleft, I could see the buildings of Chicago, looking like tiny sticks. Sometimesthe sun was a crimson ball outlining those little black sticks. It was a momentof tranquility. Of course, at eight or ten I was too young to know I neededmoments of tranquility, but late in life I often went back to that spot in mymind when life seemed to press on me.

Around the heater at the lakeIn recent years, I’ve foundanother spot—on the edge of the tiny lake at my son’s house in Tomball. Fourproperties ring this lake—I wish I could guess at the size, but it’s biggerthan a stock tank, smaller than a lake. Colin and Lisa have several seatingareas between the house and the lake, and late yesterday afternoon we tookdrinks and snacks and went to watch the day disappear in shadows.
They haverecently gotten a mushroom outdoor heater that is most effective, and the dayhad warmed enough that we were quite comfortable. As I sat staring at the lakefor just a moment, I thought, “It doesn’t get much better than this.” I didn’treally grasp my moment of tranquility because there was conversation around me—Colinand Lisa, my two teen grands, and two dogs. But it was enough for me to get amuch-needed feeling of peace.

Morgan and Ginger

My moment of peace

Lisa's mother's house on the lake

Today, Colin drove me to Wacowhere we met Jordan and Christian who brought me the rest of the way home. Wehad ordered fast food from a chain I thought was nationally ranked but now cancross off my bucket list. Fortunately, because we had Sophie with us, we orderedtake-out—the restaurant was a loud, noisy zoo, and we would have been unhappyeating there. Instead, we took our food to a charming little park on the BrazosRiver—Christian went to Baylor in Waco and so knows all the little places likethat. I thought our picnic was a lovely cap on a trip that I enjoyed.

The Brazos in Waco
A neat little park by the river

I have confessed here to notbeing a confident traveler and to feeling like a bother, but this trip put boththose qualms to rest. I enjoyed all of it—from the long drive on Tuesday where Italked Colin’s ears off and made myself hoarse to the picnic today and all thatcame in between. I have so much to be thankful for, most of all my family who watchout for me and help me with the things I can’t do alone.  Nope, it doesn’t get much better.