Baker Lake

During our last camping trip, we rode out on Baker Lake in a motor boat.  The waves were calm, letting us go fast without being jerked around.  It was a beautiful, cloudless day, the snowy peaks frosted against the baby blue sky.  The water itself had a spectacular hue to it, a reflection of the clearness of the sky above, presenting us with a most picturesque setting.  As the boat jumped over the waves, the wind on my face made me feel like I was flying.  A song stole its way into my head as the waves crashed along the side of the boat.  I want to run, I want to hide.  I want to tear down the walls that hold me inside.  I want to reach out and touch the flame, where the streets have no name.  It was the perfect song for a moment like that, when the beauty of the mountains, the fresh breeze of the wind, the transparency of the water, and the love of my family- Mom, Jason, Roger, me- all came together to enfold an emotional prism of clarity.  The feeling upraised me, and in that moment, I was once again proud to be alive.