Never Boring

Not the same old, same old -- I go to the same place to walk most mornings, but even when I'm half in reverie about something that's on my mind, I notice new things. This morning, from a distance I saw what I thought was a couple of kayaks pulled up on the beach of the creek side of the spit of land I walk on. No one was around -- not unusual, people often walk over the low dune for a dip in the ocean. Before I reached the spot five women walked from the ocean side. All had on fat gray life jackets over bathing suits. They were middle aged but athletic looking. [None looked like the above picture of Kate Hudson, I don't think any of them own bikinis - Hey, this is Cape Cod, not California!] They pulled their boats into the water -- one was obviously a leader or instructor -- and I saw that they were actually paddle boards and that paddles were different than kayak paddles.

I had seen one or two people in the ocean on afternoon visits to the beach on paddle boards but this was my first up close encounter. It looked like something I would enjoy. They pushed off into the quiet, very shallow water, kneeling for a while, and then, when they felt balanced, they stood and paddled on up the creek. I thought of taking a photo but felt shy of doing so. I realized that time is probably against me and actually I could not do this. My once broken hip is well healed but has left me without strength in that hip to rise gracefully from a kneeling position. Darn! Not that I'm about to go out an buy a paddle board or find someone giving lessons. It's just an irksome realization. They looked peaceful moving slowly along, reminiscent of gondoliers or the people who poled me and others through the marshes in Okavango Delta a couple years ago in light, shallow boats, where we moved amidst reeds and water lilies. I envied the five women and loved having seen them.