in dreams begin responsibilites

a quick geography lesson:

wiarton is on the west side of the bruce peninsula, a small sliver of land which runs between georgian bay and lake huron, bodies of water which make up part of the great lakes system of canada and the united states. georgian bay can be as placid as a pond and more ferocious then the ocean- and it's always, always freezing cold.

there's a local saying that the ice in georgian bay never melts- it just sinks.

the weather here has been unseasonable and nearly intolerable for the past three days. it's hot, it's humid and it's entirely uncharacteristic. it's also impossible to escape, this brooding weather- it hangs from everything like strands of wet wool.

tonight i went down to the breakwall here in wiarton to stick my feet in the water in an attempt to escape the tendrils of heat which were gnawing at my temper. once my feet were in, i made the executive decision that, despite the water instantly numbing any body submerged in it, i should really just jump the entire way in.

standing on the rocks, waist deep in frigid waters, contemplating whether or not to take that last jump forward which will reneder me nearly incapable of either drawing breath or exhaling, something catchs my eye.

it lumbers under water, passing me slowly on a determined path, like some sort of monster of old. a carp, a salmon, a renegade lake trout, i'm not sure which, but it's the final factor which convinces me to dive forward.

i exhale.