Back To the Lake

I live in Upper Westchester County and pass the Croton Reservoir daily on my way to the train station. One particular late evening at the studio found me traveling home a dawn. As I pass the reservoir the sight of the fog and the smell of the water brought this on. Back to the Lake Ahh the smell... Of fresh cut grass and fish on ice. Of vee-bottom boats with peeling paint that you bail with rusty coffee cans. Whose oar-locks creak with every stroke lubricated by drippy oars as you creep across the foggy expanse. Morning comes early at the lake. Old fishing lures with rusty hooks and fishing poles with tangled lines. Barefoot boys with sleepy eyes make their way to the crooked dock of rotting boards. Water laps at the side of the boat as they embark on fish story fantasies full of white lies. Ahh the lake. I am glad to have come again. — Bill Lindsay