My Watermark is Lake Huron, Ontario.

When I was young at the lake I would swim for hours trying to escape the stifling heat of the summer sun. Rolling in the waves, I would watch the seagulls circle overhead as they looked for their next meal. And I, in turn, would search for rocks to skip while wading in the shallows.

I would spend hours and hours combing the beach for all its treasures. With every step into the hot smooth sand, my feet would burn until I found the cool relief of the splashing waves below. We would find driftwood, and rocks, and shells hiding in the shallow waves.

At the lake I would watch waves hit the sides of my grandfather’s boat as we slowly approached the open water. Listening to the rhythmic hum of the motor as we slowly rocked back and forth watching bigger boats pass while we waited.

We would go to the lake every year, and we still do. Spending all day playing and swimming and looking for treasures to bring home. The lake was always enough, and it still is.