TheBanyanTree: rowing

[Kitty Park]

Moments like the one you experienced don't happen often -- or don't happen
at a time when our minds are receptive to them.  I'm glad that your head
was in the right place and Dave's was there, too.  Your writing about it
will enable you to come back to experience the moment again and again.

Kitty
<mzzkitty at gmail.com>kcp-parkplace.blogspot.com
 <http://parkplaceohio.com>




On Fri, Sep 7, 2012 at 12:06 PM, Teague, Julie Anna <jateague at indiana.edu>wrote:

>
> "None of them knew the color of the sky. Their eyes glanced level, and
> were fastened upon the waves that swept toward them. These waves were of
> the hue of slate, save for the tops, which were of foaming white, and all
> of the men knew the colors of the sea."
>
> These are the first two lines from Stephen Crane's "The Open Boat".
>  Here's how I experienced them this morning.  I signed up to row, as did
> several other people, making us a party of six, which meant a quad (four
> person boat) and a double or two singles.  Beginners are supposed to stick
> to quads.  The quads are more stable and the beginners can be in the 2-seat
> and 3-seat (middle of the boat) with more experienced rowers taking bow and
> stroke positions. The stroke position sets the stroke, the bow position
> looks over his or her shoulder--the rowers face the back of the boat--and
> calls commands for steering and turning.
>
> I carpooled to the lake with my sometimes running buddy, Dave, who is also
> a rower.  When we got there, two of the rowers had already gone out in a
> double, and two didn't show.  So that left us to abandon our row or take
> out a double--a promotion of sorts for me.  I was a bit nervous, but Dave
> is a very experienced rower, so I figured we'd be fine.  It was a
> stunningly beautiful morning.  Dense fog hung in the trees all around the
> edges of the lake.  The lake was just being stained pink and purple by the
> rising sun.  The trees were a heavy blue line, like at the edges of
> mountains.  I could just imagine the Smokies rolling up and up just behind
> the trees.  Of course my beloved Smokey Mountains weren't just beyond the
> trees, hiding in the mist, but they were easy to imagine.  The morning and
> the lake and the trees had a mountain look about them.
>
> When I am rowing, being new to the sport, I have to stay focused to keep
> all of the parts of the move working--square, catch, drop, drive, slide,
> feather, arms away, body over.  The whole thing needs to be smooth,
> powerful, and completely in unison with the other rowers. It's a beautiful
> thing, but it takes concentration.  Today, since I as in the stern of the
> boat, I could see a bit more lake and sunrise and glinting water than usual
> and still keep my eyes on what I was doing.  We stopped to catch our breath
> for a minute in the middle of the lake and I commented on the beauty of the
> morning.  Dave, as I mentioned, a very experienced rower, said that he,
> too, had to stay pretty focused and then quoted Stephen Crane, of the men
> rowing in the open boat out on the ocean, "None of them knew the color of
> the sky."  In that moment, the words were so evocative.  Exactly the
> feeling, exactly the right words to describe the focus on the movement of
> rowing, the click of the squaring of the oars, the shuushing of the slide
> mechanism.  The sky, glowing and smoking and pinking all around is becomes
> almost something you move through, rather than gaze at, while rowing.
>
> I had to rush back and find the book.  I haven't read Stephen Crane since
> high school.  Maybe junior high.  And I'm reading these words with a
> feeling in my soul like I've not experienced for awhile from the first
> paragraph of a book. What beauty and sparseness in those first two
> sentences.  The words popped and sparked in my head.  I could feel the in
> my bones that there was no more perfect way to set that scene with all the
> feeling and atmosphere.
>
> I don't know, I'm raving a little.  But it was all such a wonderful
> experience, all the parts of it together.  I can't wait to get home tonight
> and read.  I can't wait to find myself out on the lake again in a rowing
> shell.
>
> Julie
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