A small boat bobs on the surface of the lake holding a group of girls. Madie sits in the boat and writes whilst her friends embark on an adventure of aquatic undertakings. She writes about how the waves crash upon themselves creating a white cloud on the surface of the lake, the sun's reflection on the water shining like diamonds, the still calm water not touched by the underbelly of the boat, the ripples made from little drops of crystals that tap the surface of the water, the adventurous gaze in her friends' eyes, and the forest lining the edge of the water like a curtain of wonder. Madie looks at the scenery around her. She is in awe as her eyes catch a glimpse of a small patch of green land within the threshold of the trees. It seemed very small from her perspective but alas it was a large field where the animals of the land find refuge from the chaos of the forest around them. That night Madie set out on the dock of the house boat pondering the meaning of the patch of green. To many it would just be a sight of useless colour. It was so much more than that. It was a refuge. It was our refuge. It was the chaos of our everyday life surrounding that one place where there is nothing but peace.
Out on the water Madie found that peace. The calm waters, the small wake made from the boat pushing through the body of liquid glass, the smell that was not pleasant at times but always seemed to calm her down, the warmth of the sun kissing her face ever so softly, and the silence. The silence was something she has never had. The silence was the means to the saccharine serenity. The place where we find silence is the place where we find refuge from the evil of the world. That is it. That one spot. That one smell of summer trees. That one taste of crisp wind. That rain of glistening stars flying from the surface of the water and hitting your face. The sound of the waves colliding. The sight of nature, the soft greens and yellows of the sun and trees. Like a warm fire in your fireplace on a cold night of winter.
