Allie woke early the m, forced by the incessant chirping of starlings, and rubbed her eyes, feeling the stiffness in her body. She hadnt slept well, waking after every dream, and she remembered seeing the hands of the clo different positions during the night, as if verifying the passage of time.
Shed slept in the soft shirt hed given her, and she smelled him once again while thinking about the evening theyd spent together. The easy laughter and versation came back to her, and she especially remembered the way hed talked about her painting.
It was so ued, yet uplifting, and as the words began to replay in her mind, she realized how sorry she would have been had she decided not to see him again.
She looked out the window and watched the chattering birds search for food in early light. Noah, she knew, had always been a m person who greeted dawn in his own way. She knew he liked to kayak or oe, and she remembered the one m shed spent with him in his oe, watg the sun e up. Shed had to sneak out her window to do it because her parents wouldnt allow it, but she hadnt been caught and she remembered how Noah had slipped his arm around her and pulled her close as dawn began to unfold. "Look there," hed whispered, and shed watched her first suh her head on his shoulder, w if anything could be better than what was happening at that moment.
And as she got out of bed to take her bath, feeling the cold floor beh her feet, she wondered if hed been oer this m watg another day begin, thinking somehow he probably had.
She was right.
Noah before the sun and dressed quickly, same jeans as last night, undershirt, flannel shirt, blue jacket, and boots. He brushed his teeth befoing downstairs, drank a quick glass of milk, and grabbed two biscuits on the way out the door. After Clem greeted him with a couple of sloppy licks, he walked to the dock where his kayak was stored. He liked to let the river work its magic, loosening up his muscles, warming his body, clearing his mind.
The old kayak, well used and river stained, hung on two rusty hooks attached to his dock just above the waterlio keep off the barnacles. He lifted it free from the hooks a at his feet, ied it quickly, then took it to the bank. In a couple of seasoned moves long since mastered by habit, he had it ier w its stream with himself as the pilot and engine.
The air was cool on his skin, almost crisp, and the sky was a haze of different colors: black directly above him like a mountain peak, then blues of infinite range, being lighter until it met the horizon, where gray took its place. He took a few deep breaths, smelling pirees and brackish water, and began to reflect. This had been part of what hed missed most when he had lived up north. Because of the long hours at work, there had been little time to spend oer. Camping, hiking, paddling on rivers, dating, w ... something had had to go. For the most part hed been able to explore New Jerseys tryside on foot whenever hed had extra time, but in fourteen years he hadnt oed or kayaked o had been one of the first things hed done wheurned.
Theres something special, almost mystical, about spending dawn oer, he thought to himself, and he did it almost every day now.
Sunny and clear or cold and bitter, it never mattered as he paddled in rhythm to musi his head, w above water the color of iron. He saw a family of turtles resting on a partially submerged log and watched as a heron broke for