Summary:

It was an early summer day. I remember the bees buzzing vibrantly throughout the patches of flowers, and the birds sitting on the turned over tree stump, waiting to catch their next meal from the warm lake below the roots. I had heard about the tree stump that sat over the shore of the lake. About how it had been struck by lightning and shot down several years before I was born, as if Zues was angry at that one tree. After it had fallen into the lake, many neighbors came out from the shadows to chop up the broad branches until there was only the roots of the stump sitting above the water like frogs in a pond. I step near the small sandy shore and dip my toes in the warm water. The small silver fish swam up to my toes cautiously to take a nibble, their scales reflecting small flashes of sun back at me through the waters surface. 

.  .  .

My hair was down that day, I remember. The warm breeze blowing off the lake was calming to me that day. I felt as if nothing would go wrong in my life ever again. As we walked, I looked across the water to the island in the middle of the lake. I always wondered if someone lived there; always riding their boat back and forth to the mainland. The water gracefully calm disregarding the few bass that would occasionally jump out of the water like a flying bird diving for a meal. I look back to where my dad was setting the boat into the water to find him eating a sandwich in the now ready vessel. It was an old, metal boat about 15 feet long from the back to the front. There were 3 wooden planks across the middle that acted as seats.