Picture This.

You and your loved one unwinding dockside after a long day of kayaking.  Your arms ache a little bit but not uncomfortably, but it doesn’t matter because you feel content that you were able to be active without knowing even though you are on vacation. 

That is what the wine is for, anyway and you can start to feel yourself settle back deeper into the Adirondack, pace slowed, on the brink of total relaxation.

Your partner sitting beside you out-paddled you today, but you don’t care because no one tipped their kayak or dropped their paddle — you consider that a success. 

Your trophy is descending before you to close a day that you will remember not for its remarkable moments that make for good story-telling, but for the unremarkable actuality of marshland, and exploring it without needing to, or having somewhere to be.  

The expanse of grassy shores with its steady ripples of bay tides splashed against your boat and you felt that overwhelming and dizzying essence that nature made you feel small, humble and lucky to be you, and to be here, today.

The red, burning sun slowly settles to kiss the shorelines of Mathews County goodnight. Yet, the sun sets every night, moving at the same pace with a unique blending of bold colors, but tonight, and in this moment you don’t see why that matters, or why anything outside of this moment matters because you are watching this particular one display colorfully for you and the love sitting next to you.

For this is why the sunset is unremarkable, not for its distinguished beauty, but for its daily diligence in helping you remember who you are, and who you aren’t, and why that must remain simple.

And the view is totally unapologetically all yours.