Relative Something

Occupying time while waiting a turn on the pickleball court, I took pictures.

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Lake life can be like this. I was told Cyndie had signed me up for a pickleball tournament the Wildwood gang announced. Someone said 4 o’clock. Steve and I made our way next door where various Whitlocks were congregating on the deck. As the appointed hour came and went, Steve and I decided to head down to the court. One of the Whitlocks went in for a nap, none of the others followed us.

One game was in progress when we arrived. They wondered aloud where everyone else was. Two of the current players had a dinner reservation at 5 o’clock, so they were done after the game in progress. The couple without dinner reservations stayed around to give us a game.

Steve and I won, 11-1. We immediately declared ourselves winners of the tournament.

Rumor has it a series of games are planned for sometime today. We will declare it a different tournament if that is the case.

Earlier in the day while I was floating on my back in the lake, an eagle showed up overhead. It circled over me at a surprisingly low height. It came around again and was so directly above me I pleaded for no poop. I kept my eyes on it as the circle descended into an attempt to grab a fish a short distance away.

No luck on that attempt. Rising from the water, empty-clawed, the eagle came around to perch on a branch in the large pine tree in front of our place. I wondered if there was an (admittedly anthropomorphic) element of embarrassment for not getting the catch but the whole spectacle was wonderfully majestic to see from such close proximity.

The eagle will no-doubt find success in its next game.

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