Once more to the lake, as E.B.  White so eloquently wrote, and here I am, back at Lake Sunapee. The waves aren’t quite this dramatic . . .

. . . but enough to make Brittany and Andy’s dog, Bega, very excited as wake from passing boats swells into waves that crash against the shoreline. Also enough that I sometimes use the seated kayak option on my paddleboard, rather than standing, especially when the wind picks up.

Brittany’s post-chemo waves have resulted in hair that’s getting rave reviews wherever she goes . . .

Andy needs a little help to sport waves . . .

We’re also riding a new COVID wave. Just after the 4th, I had news of 19 friends and family who tested positive within the span of about ten days, including Chelsea’s family. Since I spend a large part of most days holding this little one . . .

. . . I was surprised not to catch COVID from him, but somehow didn’t.

Today would have been David’s 70th birthday, so that produces its own waves: nostalgia, wistfulness, and certainly joy and gratitude to have shared so much of his life.

And finally, we all know only too well these days how easily poorly-chosen or poorly-timed words can make waves, even–sometimes especially–with those we love very much. I wrote a poem a while back called “Warm Honey and Daggers” about the trouble and the sweetness of words, the impossibility of “taking back” words, however much we may wish we could.

So today I’m wishing you unsinkable watercraft, good hair days, strong immunities and/or speedy recoveries, comforting memories, and especially unending grace and forgiveness when words run amok.

Praying for you peace like this . . .

. . . and this . . .

May the waves never take you down!