When The Aquarians Have Fear. It's Occasional, But It Can Happen, Especially in Water

Roughly 71% of the this giant blue marble is water. I'm an Aquarian and, as a CNYorker and lover of lakes and oceans, water has been central to my being. While in Kentucky, I used to search and search for places so I could be closer to water, choosing Clarksville, Indiana, so I could at least see the Ohio River every day. It settled me temporary, but it was never enough.

Flashback. I rarely tell this story and am unsure I ever wrote it.

While in the bluegrass and working at the Louisville Nature Center, we often took older kids on a daylong trip to near-Frankfort to canoe Eichorn Creek (I think that is what it was called). I did this for years, but on one occasion, I took on the littlest camper because the water was heavy and rough and I wanted to be sure someone would have control of the boat. We were good. It was beautiful, but then we came to a choppy area and the boat sped up. Suddenly, the canoe turned over and both this kid and I were under water with the canoe pushing us up against the roots of a tree. My instinct kicked in and I quickly moved to grab the kid and move him above water. He climbed up the tree.

I, however, had a backpack in my canoe and it went underwater, too. It wrapped around my neck and also around an underground root. I couldn't get out. I was choking and could see the light above the water. I was never so scared in my life, but I was able to rip it off and kick my way to the surface. The water was shallow, but it was moving fast and under the water with a canoe banging against your body, it is scary.

I was the adult, and I didn't enjoy that. I was thankful it all turned out for the best.

Yesterday, I promised Akbar I would take him to the Sound to kayak. It was high tide and I said, "We only have 20 minutes, but I will wait for you on shore." He, however, decided to keep going out into the water after 20 minutes. I was waving a towel at him from the shore trying to get him to return. He kept going, and going, and going. It kept getting darker, and darker, and darker.

I wanted to kill him. He went out so far I could no longer see him and I knew I couldn't swim to him.

I ran along the shore line until I entered the boardwalk. I kept walking and pacing the boardwalk for him to return: 30 minutes, 40 minutes and hour. Then I saw him again.

While I paced, I kept thinking how I was going to have to explain to everyone how I lost this kid because he was too young to know how foolish he was. The normal mind would keep an eye on the shore and understand that it was a short trip. A youthful mind forgets all sense of reason and time.

I'm just glad he returned okay, even though it was along the shore line around a mile from where he started. Wanted to kill him. Hoping it will be a moment for him to realize his mortality.

And with that, I'm beginning Thursday.