A clear sunny day greets us as we slowly wake up to a new day. The lake is so still and calm that the rhythmic paddling of a solo canoeist roused me from a light sleep. John is making his early rounds of the bay in his red Prospector. I slip away again into sleep.

The kind of sleep where your drifting in and out and time seems to stand still. Minutes seem like hours. Each time you drift away into a dreamland and then emerge back into the real world. Or is it all a dream?

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