Chapter 1

      I awoke to the sound of lake water lapping, the primal, sloshing rhythm of water as it meets the shore over and over again. Sitting up, I opened my eyes. Sprawled before me, the luminous, naked body of the lake shimmered and shook in the rough embrace of Muskoka rock.

      Blue, orange, purple-black and green, the water rolled towards me. Only a few weeks ago, the lake was held prisoner under ice that cracked and snapped like a whip keeping an animal in submission. But now the water was free again and rambunctious, slapping and clapping restlessly against the dock. Sometimes in its rollicking, splashes of water leapt into the cool spring air, breaking into a spray of silver droplets that sparkled in the light.

      Wrapping a blanket around me, I moved to the open window. The waving arms of a thousand evergreens greeted me. I breathed deeply as though I might draw the lush smell of them into the landscape of my body.

      Should I go for a swim? If anything could pull the sluggishness from my body it would be the coldness of the lake. It would wake me up, get me going. I’d slept in again. Why was it so hard to get up lately? And when I was up, I couldn’t get myself going. A swim would be perfect. Years ago, I started every day with a swim.

      My shoulders hunched and my fingers pulled the blanket more securely around me. My body did not like this idea. Is this what aging does, makes you decide things because of temperature? Comfort? Disgruntled, I sighed and stared out at the lake.

      In the dark-green water near the shore, an arrowhead of ducks moved soundlessly. As I watched them, they turned abruptly and scuttled back towards my small wooden dock. Hearing the sputter of a boat, I leaned forward and peered down the lake.

      “God, they’re at it again!” I picked up my field glasses and scanned the water. A boat full of fishermen loomed up hugely in the binoculars.

      “Look at them. The bastards! They’re tossing bottles into the water.” I paced the room as furiously as if the bottles were being jettisoned into my own living room. “The dump’s just down the road!”

      Charlie, my dog, pulled the bulk of his golden body up on his haunches and looked at me.

      “You know what I’m going to do, Charlie? I’m going to canoe out there and