Private Time

Sometimes I need time alone. I mean, time away from home, where my thoughts can meander freely, where there is no phone to ring or dinner to be cooked.

On those days I usually head for the water. It doesn't seem to matter if it is the open expanse of Lake Erie or the quiet pond at my parents' resting place. Something about the water soothes my soul.

The other day I did just that. My mind was reeling. I couldn't concentrate on work or laundry or even on my bucket list. I stopped for a minute, took a deep breath, and stepped into my private world.

One side of the pier was dotted with shanties for the brave (and nuts) ice fishermen. I tried that once--repeat, ONCE. Still, the shanties are something photos are made of, and I wondered if the fishermen were there for meat or for private time. A little of both, I suspected. Surely it wasn't only the fish that kept a man isolated in his peaceful little tent with only a can of sterno and another of coffee for company.

The other side of the bay had thawed, and I watched while the water rolled under a thin sheet of ice, as though it was gasping for breath. I watched, fascinated, as the whitecaps ate away at the ice until a large area of blue-grey baywater appeared. Seagulls, sitting at the edge of the ice, kept moving back until at last they found refuge on the pier. So small, really, yet they survive the frigid air, find food in the bits of broken bay and fly and dive and laugh as though nothing else matters.

Eventually I found my way to the lake proper, where ice had been broken by the wind and the waves, and piled on the shore like bit-sized pieces of divinity. I marveled at that, wanting to walk along the ice dunes no matter the danger. The coward in me--or perhaps it is the common sense?--won the argument.

I closed my eyes then, and opened the car windows so I could hear the wind. I would stay this way until the turmoil in my mind subsided and until I could separate my daydreams from reality.

There is still so much that I want from life! Time moves so quickly. I wonder how I will ever accomplish anything in the this fast-track atmosphere.

The clouds are moving faster, the wind is picking up and sends a shiver through me. The sun pokes through now and then, and with it the clarity I had been seeking.

The private time I so desperately wanted had ended.