Summer sculling

Out on a gorgeous summer evening: the warm golden light that makes trailing to the river after work worth the effort.

The trailer was back from Nat Champs and a few people were unloading, looking more relaxed than they have in a long while. Rest earned for the work is done.

I headed out on my own, a general plan for the outing but nothing too adventurous. A quiet purpose but also sculling to remember that I love it.

The river was almost empty, just a few other scullers with the same idea in mind. No crews steaming along, urged by coach and cox. Instead, a quietness, a solitary enjoyment.

I paddled in, put my boat away, left for home. Dark pinkish grey clouds and the sun like the burst yolk of a free-range egg. Slipping below the horizon, reminding me that these days are few and precious. The panting dog-days of August are to come, then the sharpening promise of autumn. Home after dark.