Just a Paddle

I walk my boat to the south end of Lake Union. It is gray and warm with a steady 10 mph wind out of the southwest. The boat launch I planned to use was closed for park redesign, so I set in over a low rock wall from a parking lot a hundred yards north. It works just as well. Sailboats are out in Lake Union today and I have an easy downwind paddle to the north end of the lake where I head east into Portage Bay. From there, it is farther east, through the cut into Union Bay. It rains. I put my rain jacket on. It stops raining. I take my rain jacket off. I paddle into some lily pads near marsh island. It rains. I put my rain jacket on. It stops raining. I take my rain jacket off. I continue past the burial island and around the east marsh. A drifting buoy that is beginning to break up is in the cattails. It has been in this area for several weeks and I assume that the owning government agency is not going to retrieve it, ever, so I tie a rope to it and tow it. It looks weird, following me with it's head tipped toward me with intent. It tows easier than a truck tire, in case anyone is interested. I bring it to shore, but it weighs so much that I can not lift it at all let alone get it in the canoe. So, back into the water and I tow it to my exit point, where I roll the great beast to the nearest garbage can, not that I expect the garbage man to take it, of course. But, it is not in the lake shedding foam and plastic bits.