This is my story, this is my song.

Is there anything like the wind in your hair, the sun on your face and your dog resting his fuzzy face on your knee? I'm on a boat with 3 generations of my family: grandparents, moms, dads, sisters, dogs and 4 precious sons/grandsons/cousins, screaming with glee, especially the oldest, 14. My boy soaks up the wind, the speed, the waves, the bumps and the thrill ride like he's on fire with joy.

It's a Sunday morning early and we saw some church goers gathered on the banks and in boats and we heard their music echo over the water... "this is my story, this is my song, praising my savior, all the day long."

The sun rises higher, sparkling like wind chimes of glass, glittering on the deep black lake. Harry's ears fly behind him while he commands the boat's bow with me. He nestles in my nido, my nest of legs, sprawled in front of me and enjoys the morning every bit as much as the beloved boys who are laughing and screeching like maniacs in a symphony of praise for this God-given day.

Namaste.