It’s not a secret I love paddleboarding — yet another of the things I picked up in my fifties that took.

Having new hobbies to replace the ones that physically hurt too much to continue to do, are a gift as we age. And as much as I miss regular rounds of golf or smashing a tennis ball weekly across a court, I am grateful for this zen, back-to-nature gem of a sport that had become my most recent addiction.

Every summer when my second son, Logan, came home from either being away for Junior Hockey or University, paddleboarding was our thing. He taught me how to maintain my balance on the board and how to paddle properly after all, and the conversations we had between mother and son were priceless.

This summer, I’m paddling alone apart from the odd days when first born, Adam, decides he can squeeze me into his busy schedule and joins me on the lake with his kayak or Logan pops home. This year, he is working for his school and has found his heart twenty minutes from there, in a true inside and out beauty, called Sara. He’s earning money, he’s in love and he is enjoying his youth over there, while juggling the scorching hot hurdles and hiccups of adulting without the luxury of coming home every day of the summer to a comfortable bed and already made meals.

Today, I paddled the circumference of the lake which takes me about forty-five minutes…about an hour and a half today with the waves from the wind and the wake of the speed-boat towing the summer camp kids in tubes. It was hot with a nice breeze — a welcome change from the thick blanket of humidity smothering Ontario and Quebec the past three weeks during what is now an annual heatwave in our country.

It was a pleasant day for a paddle and everyone out in their canoes, kayaks and paddleboards were smiling and friendly. I never said hello, or exchanged pleasantries with so many people on the water in my entire five years of paddleboarding.

As I hit the home stretch of my journey, I tucked into the lagoon as I usually do (with Logan) in my search for Mr Turtle, or Carl, as every wild creature is called by the members of our family. I made my way through the weeds and the lilypads looking into the clear water for the ginormous beast. As per usual, I didn’t find him because let’s face it, it was probably a one time sighting but about eight feet away from me on a bed of lilypads, was a turtle about the size of both my hands — so 32 cenitmetres (approximately 14.5 inches) — just looking right at me. I continued to paddle towards it and he just stayed there, staring at me until I was about just over a metre (just over three feet) away. In a flash it dived into the water and swam away. I paddled in the general area of the ripples but didn’t see it but what I did have was a big smile on my face.

Even though I didn’t have anyone to share it with, it was a beautifully perfect moment. As the turtle and I eyeballed each other, I felt so calm and at peace all I could think of was how in that short time, everything in my life was just as it needed to be. I wanted nothing, needed nothing and I was fortunate enough to have a wordless moment with another living creature, sharing the lake with me.