I don’t know how to sail. I’ve never done it. But my dad does, and he really wanted me to come with him sometime. Eventually, I gave in.

He took me on his friends’ boat, on a Saturday near the end of the summer. We spent hours heading out across the lake, relying on wind speed before eventually using the motor. Then, when everyone was just starting to become bored, we stopped.

Usually, when I’m at the beach, I don’t go farther than I can touch. I lie on the sand, or run in up to my knees, and shriek when the waves come to my waist. But we were now in at least twenty, maybe sixty feet above the bottom, and we just jumped in!

Honestly, it was kind of scary. The lake was huge, I couldn’t see the bottom, and I found myself worried that something would reach up and grab me.

But nothing did.

It was actually really fun. I raced my dad to a buoy, and then grabbed a rope and leaned against the side of the boat. The lake stretched on for miles on every side. I was awestruck.

When we sailed back, the wind was rushing past us and I closed my eyes and just felt the breeze. It was a great end to the day.

(Don’t tell my dad I liked it.)