Wooden Canoe

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Action and Adventure  |  House: Booksie Classic
A wooden canoe stood docked at the natural shore of a riverbank...

We are all within the full capability of making our own choices, and making our own paths in life. Sometimes the best choice is not the easiest. Would you dare go against the current, even if it was more painful?

Submitted: August 15, 2012

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Submitted: August 15, 2012

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A wooden canoe stood docked at the natural shore of a riverbank.  It was of simple but sturdy craft, made through the dedication of hard work and a skilled pair of hands. Just beyond the river lay a forest, rich in vibrant green tones from the incessantly radiating summer sun.  Emerging from the forest was a boy, captivated with an expression of enduring grief on his sun-kissed face.  He stood on the edge of the shore, a long wooden oar in hand, surveying the river behind sparkling hazel eyes before slowly walking over to the canoe.  With a practiced dexterity, he swung himself into the boat and using his oar and a single, powerful push, directed the boat away from the rocky bank.

The water was calm, inviting, pleasant.  The moment, if captured into a single description, was an inherently enchanting one.  The repose of that instantaneous moment in time, the boy and his wooden canoe, held an inescapable measure of charm to any onlooker that there may have been. 

In fluid motions, the boy propelled the wooden canoe along the river, moving in tandem with the flow of the natural current.  One thoughtful stroke after another pushed the boy forward, closer to a point of undefined destination.  His face remained as placid as the river’s tranquility as he kept his gaze fixed on the route before him. 

Suddenly, as though there had been a clamorous disruption to the serenity of the moment, the boy jerked his head up and out of his intent focus.  He released his hold of the oar, and dropped it to lay balanced on the top of the canoe. Upon a closer inspection, the boy appeared to be rather conflicted, and almost inquisitive.  His expression of clear dissonance was a curious one indeed; while he seemed to be encountering issues in some extent of resolve, he maintained a look of self-satisfaction.  Despite this, the canoe floated on, at a slower rate but otherwise unaffected by the sudden change in its passenger.  The boy seemed to realize this as well; he sat motionless and silent as the boat carried on, as it was before he had stopped, moving along with the natural flow of the current.  As if some sort of revelation was reached, the entire expression of the boy’s face brightened and he proceeded to re-secure a firm grip on his wooden oar.  However, instead of propelling himself forward right away, a small smile appeared on his face as he steered the canoe to face the opposite direction—in reversed position to the current.

The muscles on his arm suddenly broke into action, and with powerful, adept strokes, moved the suddenly heavy canoe forward.  Again a look of determination and concentration appeared on his face, but it had a new life to it.  Every part of his arms ached for him to stop and return to the continuous and painless direction of the river, but the boy was unrelenting in his pursuits.  The river became a harsh entity; every marine plant that reached the water’s surface became an enemy that fought to pile onto the wooden oar and drag it down, which now had become a heavy burden to carry.  Every push of the resisting current became a battle that must be won. Every ounce of the boat became a pound, and each and every bit of the boy’s spirit remained untarnished with each passing moment while sitting in the wooden boat that fought the powerful authority of the river.

The rocky shore the boy had started on reappeared on the horizon, and with prevailing efforts, the boy proceeded to return the wooden canoe to where it had been before.  Once docked, he swung himself back to land.  With only a brief glance back at the river he had just journeyed, and a look of unquestionable satisfaction, the boy disappeared into the forest that lay beyond the riverbank.

A wooden canoe stood docked at the natural shore of a riverbank.  It bobbed up and down in the water, patiently waiting for its next adventure with the glimmering, quiet river that smiles back so sweetly.


© Copyright 2017 VictoriaLynn. All rights reserved.

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