LARGETONY Blog

Often it’s the simplist things that give you the greatest payoff. Like a simple tune orchestrated with whistling and finger snaps. You know the one I mean. You’ve heard that bouncy little melody (with a touch of harmony in the bridge) a million times: an easy and care free sort of whistle that infects your brain so much that you can’t help but mosey along with the beat. And the snaps? Well…they seem to add a little spring to your step. Maybe because they happen on the off beat.

Work had been called on account of rain and I decided to take a drive instead of heading straight home. Going nowhere in particular, I happened to drive by one of my favorite places on the lake. There’s a gravel road leading down to the boat ramp; a border of tall trees just obscuring the view of the water; the thick haze of summer air. It always trigged the image of Opie and Andy. And that image cued the soundtrack in my head. In reality there was no read-headed kid and his Paw” coming back from fishing. It was just me. No bare feet. And the only pole I had wasn’t for fishing (well, depending on what I’m fishing for.)

I’ll bet a lot of people hear that whistling and snapping around there. This spot could just as well be Opie’s home town. The rea-life inspiration is a couple hours over the mountain in North Carolina. So in a sense this is just west of Mayberry.

The sun was starting to break through the clouds some to dapple the trees and dance across the lake. I couldn’t resist pulling over and taking a walk down to the shore. There was nobody out on the water and it was wildly quiet. It was that summer kind of quiet where insects and creatures are making all kinds of noise, but it seems like there’s not a sound. When nature is truly silent I start to worry, because that means something bad is about to happen.

The worst thing happening that afternoon was maybe the threat of more rain. I went down to the bank and found a good spot where I could sit for a while. The lake looked kind of muddy after all the rains lately, but it was really more cloudy than thick with dirt and debris. I decided to take off my boots and socks and dip the ol’ size fourteens in the water. I soaked my feet and leaned back on my elbows watching the world not go by. It was funny that no one was out fishing. I could see those tell-tale bubbles and ripples all over the place. Real fishermen know the best times to catch fish, but it made me wonder if the fish are maybe figuring out the best times to not be caught. Imagine a sort of underground railroad of trout and bass.

The water was warmer than I excpected. But somewhat muddy water always feels warmer than clear water. I wonder if the little granules of dirt absorb the heat from the sun and make the water temperature go up. No matter. The fact was that the water felt good and wanted to go in. So I rolled my pants went in calf deep. The lake bed was soft. Almost no rocks. Just a nice layer of silt that felt like sand. It felt so good squishing between my toes with every step. Before I knew I had stepped my way quite a bit upstream, just taking it all in. I haven’t really been anywhere in my life, but I find it hard to believe that there can be many places more beautiful than mountains, lakes, and streams of east Tennessee and western North Carolina. This is God’s country out here, just west of Mayberry.

I walked further on to an more secluded spot (just to be safe) because it was the perfect time and place to take the plunge and take a plunge. Besides, I love to skinny dip. Dangling my bare feet in the gentle waters was nothing compared to immersing my full nakedness in it. I didn’t swim or splash around. That would have ruined the hushed solitude of it all. Instead, I just floated. My body floated and my mind floated. Life is easy, just west of Mayberry.

Clouds gently rolled in again cutting me off from my liquid sun bath, and little drops started in from the sky. It’s funny how when the rain comes in you generally see people getting out of their pools and lakes. What’s the big deal? You’re already wet. I figured, unless there’s thunder and lighting, why not in enjoy it? So, I welcomed the rain. It dropped in soft pellets on my chest and legs. I closed my eyes and felt it roll over me. It gradually became a full-on shower, the raindrops hitting just hard enough to feel like one of those massaging shower heads, only out here it was full body all at once.

This was new for me…floating on the water during a warm summer rain. My first experience having a natural liquid massage. I gotta tell you, Mother Nature has some great hands. If only the trees would have bent down to swat me with their leaves.

Driving home afterwards, I felt recharged. Really alive. Yep, it’s the simple things that really pay off.

I went back yesterday. To relive it. But there were others there. Lost of others. Kids cannonballing into the lake; pickup trucks with bright red and blue coolers sitting up on the bed; boat motors churning up the water. And all that noise. I sighed and realized that my afternoon of solitude may have been just a fleeting moment. After all, it’s never going to be like that on weekends, and perhaps, we’re just a touch too far west of Mayberry.

This entry was posted on Sunday, July 24th, 2005 at 12:46 pm and is filed under being tony. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.