I felt my shoulders relax as I neared the water. Easing my car over the speed bump, I turned the corner toward the kayak rental shop. My dad’s car was already in the parking lot, facing the lake, and I pulled in next to it.
My dad and I try to kayak every week together, from early May until the middle of October. We had missed a few weeks recently due to an unrelenting heat wave, but the weather finally broke a few days ago. This morning it was 63 degrees, and wispy white clouds spread out against a bright blue sky. There was just a hint of a breeze, and I could smell bacon cooking over a campfire on the other side of the lake—breakfast for the campers in the orange tent just barely visible through the trees.
It was good to be back.