My watermark is Lake Huron.

When I was young at the lake I swam in the sparkling water. I dove, swam, and bobbed up and down. Like a dolphin I moved through the water, while smiling, laughing and giggling. I would wave merrily at my parents, with my trusty orange whistle roped around my hand.

When I was young at the lake I walked into the cool refreshing waves with arms wide open. I relished the feel of smooth, round, and cold rocks and tiny grains of sand under my feet. Sometimes I laid down on the water, pretending it was a bed. I would relax, staring into the horizon.

When I was young at the lake I found plenty of fun and amusing things to do. My dad showed me how to choose small and flat stones to skip over the water, and the proper technique to do it. I would watch in amazement as he threw a stone and it skipped three, four, or even five times before sinking into the water. I would try lots of times, but I seldom succeded! Sometimes, I even chased ducks, seagulls, and geese that I saw in the water or flapping around on the sand.

When I finally had to go I would stay on the shore for one, two, three minutes, letting the waves lap against my feet. Then I would stand up and reluctantly turn around to leave. But I was never sad, because I knew that I would come again.