Stain-glass Eyes

I near the stony beach on Lake Huron, filled with dormant, Canada geese.   They stand up, walk slowly first and show their early morning-laziness. When my feet hit the rocks off the grass They begin to run to the edge and fly across the water, rippled with small waves. They’re like a bunch of crotchety old ladies and Scroogely-old men. They bitch with honks, their comfort zone disrupted. I slip off my sandals when my feet touch the water throwing them far enough on the beach no groping waves can grab them and take them away. Ouch! Sharp stones on bare feet! My weight accommodates the torture. Only seconds of pain though. I dive into the cool, rippled water as pleasure surrounds my skin. It feels like I’ve draped a silky Kimono on my body, head to toe. Mom’s already halfway down the beach, head down, with her white baseball cap covering her hair. Her brilliant idea to make an early morning visit to the beach. She searches for “Fin