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White… pure, dazzling white… covers most of the scene before me… so clean and untouched.
The lake is perfectly calm… not a ripple to be seen… reflecting the scenes along its banks like a mirror.
Tall, straight fir trees… that were a deep, rich green the day before… now proudly display the powdery dusting of last night’s snow.
The early morning silence is thunderous… reminding me that I am but a speck of imperfection in the midst of such beauty.
And the view is awesome… peaceful… and inspiring.
Then, one small sound… the gentle squeak of an un-oiled hinge… yet, sounding as loud as a gunshot… shatters the silence… and the tranquility.
My eyes wander from the lake… up the long flight of steps that had been installed from bottom to top… from the lakeside up to… his cabin… an eyesore among nature’s wonder.
He is still there… standing on the deck, as he does every morning… coffee cup in hand… no doubt staring at the view on my side of the lake.
Sometimes he waves… but I pretend not to see… for his presence is annoying… spoiling everything for me.
I came here to be alone with nature… to enjoy the solitude that can only be found in such a place… to think without the interruption of civilization
Then he came… bringing the noise… the roar of heavy equipment… the scraping of a backhoe bucket dragging over the rocks, and… most horrific of all… the buzzing of chainsaws!
All of it… the man and the noise he created… encroached on my domain… disrupting my peaceful existence.
Every night I went to bed, hoping he would disappear… that in the morning he would be gone… his cabin… and the dreadful wooden stairway creeping up the hillside like some alien presence.
Then, as if changing the natural beauty of the hillside wasn’t enough… he attempted to deface the shore of the lake itself.
Several large posts were sunk into the ground, about six feet from the edge of the water… and I feared the worst was yet to come… a boat that would pollute the lake!
I did not want to leave the little haven I had found… now, I feared his presence would force me to seek solitude elsewhere.
One morning, about a month ago, a giant crane arrived… reaching up into the air like some menacing, metal bird of prey… and my heart pounded, as I imagined all the destruction it could do.
As I watched, an object was lifted by the crane… and allowed to slide slowly down over the deplorable wooden stairway… coming to rest at the bottom.
The dreaded boat had arrived… and I knew the end of my serene existence was near.
I was brought back to the present when the man walked down the steps… and as he neared the bottom… I could see that he held something long in one hand.
He pulled the little boat to the edge of the water. I could see what was in his hand were paddles, which he now laid into the boat… no motor to pollute the lake… that was good.
Pushing the boat into the water, he jumped into it. He used one paddle to push the boat away from the shore. Then he sat down, picked up the other paddle… and began to row… towards MY SIDE OF THE LAKE!
Cold shivers ran up and down my spine… the goose bumps on my arms felt as big as marbles… and it was getting hard to breathe.
I went into panic mode… I went inside and closed the door behind me… very quietly… no squeaky hinges here… and engaged the locks… all six of them.
I looked around… nothing to indicate that I was currently at home.
My car was in the driveway on the other side of the house… but he might just think I had gone for a walk.
Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I went to the closet near the front door and shut myself in.
After what felt like hours, I heard… or thought I heard… footsteps on the deck… then again, it could have been my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
Finally, I dared to open the closet door… and was amazed to see that I’d only been in there thirty-five minutes.
Cautiously, I crept forward… checking for faces at the window… until I reached the sliding glass doors to the deck. All appeared to be clear.
There was a piece of paper on the deck… held down by a stone.
I undid the locks… as quietly as possible… knelt down… and crawled out onto the deck. I lifted the rock just enough to remove the paper… my hands trembling… and read…
“Hello. I’m Ted, from the other side of the lake. I just wanted to introduce myself and ask if you’d like to try fishing with me in the morning.”
His name was signed at the bottom… with a phone number.
I stood up and there he was… out on the lake… about halfway back to his own side.
He looked up… saw me… and stopped rowing long enough to wave.
I thought about the isolation last winter… the many times I had paced the floor… talking to myself… and I waved back.
Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad having another person close by… not too close… but close enough to wave to from the deck… and maybe the odd phone call… but not too often. I was nowhere near ready to let anyone else into my private space yet.
Had my co-workers been right all along? Had I become paranoid?
