Paul Turner: Staring at the water an oft-overlooked pastime

Swimming, boating and straddling those aquatic crotch rockets, it’s all fine.

I suppose.

But when people talk about the Inland Northwest’s love of lake life, I sometimes think they overlook what just might be our most popular form of summer recreation.

Staring at the water.

This quiet activity seldom gets the credit it deserves. But it is perhaps the Spokane area’s No. 1 form of midyear therapy.

Staring at the water lets you get your mind right. For a little while, at least.

More than a mere backdrop for daydreams, it can be a calming catalyst for contemplation and creativity. All you need are a pair of sunglasses and some unpestered time. Maybe a cold beverage. Or two.

The rippling, gently undulating water can be a blank canvas onto which you project your hopes and fears.

You tune out the static and enter a sort of trance where you can review and reflect on what has been.

What you wish you had done. What you wish you had said.

And you can peer into the future.

What you might do. What you might say.

You don’t have to be an aspiring poet to savor the way sunlight and shadows play on the water. But sometimes, if you let it happen, the lake’s quicksilver surface can cast a hypnotic spell.

Off you float on a reverie of imagination and what-iffing.

Onto the stage of this theater of the mind marches a parade of images, perhaps connected in some secret way. Scenes from childhood. Voices you remember. Glory days. The way someone looked or smelled. A particular 1971 miniskirt. Long-ago synaptic snapshots that make you sigh with fresh regret. A haunting taste that reminds you of a certain kitchen. Moments that tickle you into a smile, even now.

The lake doesn’t judge. It doesn’t have an agenda.

It does not have the answers. But it lets you ask.

Would it have changed things if you had spoken up that one time? Could a catastrophic illness wipe out your savings? Do those who were there that day long ago remember you as brave or as foolishly reckless? What was her name, that girl with the impossibly elegant neck? Is it too late to apologize? Should you have just punched him? How did you ever pass that class? What if you knew then what you know now?

Staring at the water.

Perhaps a friend or loved one will notice that you are alone and sidle over.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Oh, nothing. Just staring at the water.”

Fantasy produce

I have had about 30 imaginary gardens since moving to Spokane.

Had some even when we lived in apartments. But I think this year’s might be my best.

The fantasy tomatoes are coming along nicely. The imaginary beans are right on schedule. As always, there are no zucchini. And so far, the bugs and deer are leaving everything alone.

Oh, sure. Imaginary gardens don’t deliver quite the same succulent bounty at harvest time. But they require less watering.

Truth is, I wouldn’t mind doing a few of the attendant chores. My problem is I never, and I do mean never, get my act together in time to make a garden happen. Maybe next year.

Meantime, I want to ask if others have had successful imaginary gardens.

I’ll send a few coveted reporter’s notebooks to readers briefly describing their fantasy gardens. I want to know. What was your secret?

Carnivore once more

It’s cookout season. So what’s the right thing to say to someone who used to be a vegetarian but apparently is not anymore?

A) “Came to your senses, huh?” B) “I knew it was just a matter of time.” C) “What happened?” D) “Well, maybe you’ll go back to it someday. Life doesn’t always move in a straight line.” E) Nothing. F) “Welcome back to the fight. This time I know our side will win.” G) “Beef. It’s what’s for dinner.” H) “Are you sure? I had kind of gotten used to you as a vegetarian.” I) “Now you tell me. We’re having Soylent Green tonight.” J) “So you’ve rejoined the ranks of us flesh-eating zombies?” K) “I always wondered if it was even legal on this side of the Cascades to not eat meat.” L) Other.

End note

Kathy Hickman has a question.

“Can you tell me why I can remember Fairfax 8-1521 and not my cellphone number?”