Place Entry One

Jan 17th 3:00pm
Strong as the Wind

On the weekends, Lake Jovita is a quiet place without a lot of activity, especially in winter. Florida air is usually still and heavy with too much moisture. The sun beats down on all things, authoritatively. From this oppression, the wise animal world hides in the shade at mid-day. Today is unusually windy, and as I walk down the hill that leads to the lake, the wind picks up stronger and louder. The position of the sun indicates it’s about 2:00. Its rays frost the west shoreline of the lake as if the sun laid a sheet of gold leaf to gild the water. As the cumulous, graying clouds cover the sun, the gilded water turns to stainless steel, muting the vibrant colors of the landscape. The wooden dock is moaning and complaining at the undulating waves. I sit down in lotus position with my back against the dock post. I rock with the dock from the waves, and the laps against the base of the dock are soothing, like gentle splashes and plops from moving in a hot bath. The wind has stirred the lake, creating a feast for coots and soaring birds. Coots, which are duck-like the way they swim and bob in the lake, float in a raft of twenty or thirty others. One dives under the waves and another follows. Like ladles in a pot of soup, they grab small fish and plants that the wind has stirred up. I’m reminded of my brother and I jumping over and diving beneath waves as kids in the Atlantic Ocean, as I watch the kuk-kuk-ing coots doing the same. The howling wind stifles the sounds of the Abbey bells that tell me it must be three-o-clock. Overhead, a falcon is flying with a small fish hanging out of his mouth. On the East side of the lake, a bald eagle circles, peering below in the churning lake for his dinner. The cattail grass that skirts the lake is bending in the wind. The blades that have turned brown shake like pompoms, sounding like distant, polite applause at a symphony. The tips of the grass are pointing toward the shore, all reaching forward as if trying to escape the lake. I leave against my desire, suddenly aware of the time. As I walk up the hill, I pass the library windows where I usually sit to study, the best indoor location for a view of the lake. Lake Jovita seems quiet when observed through the window, and I realize it’s been seven years since I sat on the dock with pencil and paper.