Water, water everywhere...

Among my group of friends, a fondness for bodies of water borders on cliche. Nautical themes dominated all through college, what with a friend's bar in the house called "The Sandbar" or the constant playing of Jimmy Buffett wherever you went.

It may be cliche, but it's still true.

There's nothing in the world to set your mind at ease like a body of water. [Well, adding some barley and hoppes to that water can help, but only in the short term.] The sound of waves crashing... the mesmerizing patterns in the water... the stiff breeze felt when traveling by boat... the reflection of a hot sun off a cool lake...

It's a feeling some people understand, and some people don't. I'm half convinced the world's divided into two groups -- those who love the water and those who don't.

It's such a conflicting image, really. Water is so cool and soothing and harmless in some settings, yet it can be this incredibly powerful, destructive force. It can be a means of getting from one place to another, or it can be something that traps you. It can somehow reflect almost any mood you imagine, be it the quiet, serene waters of a babbling brook or the relentless, furious crashing of an angry sea.

Whenever I get on a boat, I like to sit near the front. The less you see of the boat in front of you, the better. As you gaze ahead of you, you lose yourself. For just a moment, you forget you're propelled by a Johnson outboard. You feel like you're simply strolling across the water on your own.

If there's anything better in life, I haven't found it yet.