The Same Background, Reversed

by Sarah Mae

The summer sun bounced off the surface of the familiar lake like bright glimmering diamonds. The breeze was cool and a bit haunting as the guests gathered at the welcoming yellow cottage on the edge of the water. The garage was open, as always, gently calling to everyone that entered to make themselves at home. The tables, covered with red-checked vinyl surrounded by an odd assortment of lawn chairs seemed ready for the days events. The afternoon light was drifting through the large opening that faced the lake where the water seemed to dance as the breeze moved it past the house. The sound of it lazily lapping

against the side of the pontoon boat could be heard distinctly as the eclectic group of people who filled the garage spilled out onto the lawn at the front of the house, greeting one another and chatting quietly. It appears as though you've already made some changes to your original. I wish you hadn't because I can't get the full feeling as I once did.

“God couldn’t have given us a prettier day,” one guest observed as the heads around her bobbed in agreement. The guests took their seats in the misshapen circle of chairs that surrounded them to continue their conversation. It was an odd collection of stories punctuated by a common theme of humor and love and as each person shared an anecdote it became more and more evident that, although they hadn’t seen each other in many years, the connection between them was still very strongly related to the background that resided behind them lapping the shoreline quietly. It had always been an idyllic place full of life-long friends and happy memories for all of them, but it was also a place of harsh contrasts.

The lake itself was somehow welcoming and warm, even though in reality the water was cold most of the year because of the deep underground springs that fed it. It was a place to fish, swim and connect with people during the summer and the cottages along the shoreline looked like brightly colored candy when the sun struck them a certain way. The lawns were full of people sunbathing, but in the winter it was a solitary retreat haunted by howling winds and brutal cold and the brightly colored cottages looked like icy sea shells bracing themselves against the cold wind that screamed across the frozen lake. It was warm and cold, welcoming and foreboding, but still the same background. This is a very strong contrast paragraph to the rest of the paper. Perhaps moving this paragraph more towards the end would be more suited.

The eclectic group that had gathered eventually moved off the lawn and down the long set of creaking steps that led to the dock. They boarded the pontoon boat that had waited quietly for them as they shared their animated stories in the misshapen circle of chairs near the front of the beloved yellow cottage and again, took their seats as someone whispered about how beautiful a day it was. One of the passengers carried a minnow bucket that she placed quietly on the deck of the boat near the bow. The engines started noisily and the pontoon boat glided away from the dock smoothly gently bobbing from side to side as the yellow house faded into the distance and low voices chatted quietly. The ride across the lake was peaceful as the sun shone brightly against the tall trees that lined the shores and although many of the old cottages had been replaced by new large lakeside retreats, the view from the water was still breathtaking.

The shore line curved and turned as they moved forward slowly taking in the beauty they had all enjoyed for so many years. It was very warm, but the cool breeze and the water lapping against the sides of the boat were soothing as the passengers crossed the lake toward a favorite location. It was sometime later when the hum of the engines stopped and the anchor splashed into the water as the boat drifted quietly across the surface of the lake. The breeze across the deck of the boat turned it against the anchor rope and it moved slowly toward the south shore as several guests rose and shared a variety of inspirational thoughts. The lake seemed especially loving as it lapped familiarly against the pontoons, soothing the passengers as the minnow bucket was lowered into the water and its contents were placed gently into the water. Slowly, the gray ashes descended into the dark silence of the familiar background, the same, but now reversed as my brother joined my father in the lake we all loved.

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