Despite cloudy skies, we paddle our way. Through winding wet places, fun ahead does it lay. We tack our way true, through streams broad and narrow. For the sake of delight, our paddles kept shallow. Gushing water does spray, up into the bow. Cresting each wave, with a hoot and a howl. As the day grows long and the dark it does set. We lash our boat up and make ready our best. A spark for the fire, the kindling does set. The smoke and the heat, to ready our nest. Toes numb with cold, are brought to a boil. We eat fish and fresh things, that we found in the soil. Our beds have been prepped with all the love and care. Like nestling cubs, we retire and sky-stare.
