Baby Ducks and Leeches

So I was looking over my 30 before 30 list and realized I forgot about one I recently completed!

#10. Write a book of short stories from my childhood.

When I originally wrote that, I wasn't sure what it would look like or entail. Well, turns out it was in the form of a journal which I wrote for my dad's recent birthday. I got a blank journal and wrote twelve stories from my childhood. At the beginning of the journal, I wrote about how there are certain sights, smells, and sounds that bring back certain memories for me. I decided I'm going to share a few stories from the journal with you over the next few weeks. While they may not be as sentimental for you (unless you're my family member), I hope you enjoy them, nonetheless. I hope they brighten your day with a smile or a sweet thought. :)

Baby Ducks and Leeches

When I was nine, Dad took us to Lake of the Woods, Canada for our family vacation. We stayed in a cabin by a glistening lake. Every morning Dad and my brother, Chris, went out fishing with a local guide while Mom and I hung out on the beach. Then in the afternoons and evenings we would all relax together and have filling dinners in the main lodge restaurant. One day on the beach we witnessed the wonder of animals. A mother duck stood on a concrete ledge on the shore near shallow water, her baby ducklings literally lined up behind her. We watched the mother fly gracefully onto the water, and in sheer amazement we watched the ducklings take turns attempting to do the same. It was one of the most precious things I'd ever witnessed. One by one, the little ducklings would jump off the ledge and land with a thud onto the shore, rolling over in somersaults after hitting the ground. We couldn't help but laugh at the tiny fluffy babies and their failed attempts. It was all we could do to restrain ourselves from interceding and helping them to not land on their little heads. Once they had all taken a turn, they lined up again, desperately trying to learn to fly into the water. And once again they would land with an awkward thud.

Another day when Mom and I were on the beach, I felt something weird on the bottom of my foot. I checked out my situation only to find an odd, slimy black creature stuck to my foot. I tried removing it with no success. I showed Mom, who got a little grossed out but attempted to pull off the creature as well, again with no success. Mom walked to a nearby building and asked for help from a worker there. It was a man who had been there for years and chuckled when he saw my foot. "You got yourself a leech there, young lady." I looked at Mom and wrinkled my nose in disgust. Whatever a leech was, I knew I wanted it off of me! With one firm tug the man yanked the leech off of my skin and set it free further down the beach. When Dad and Chris returned from fishing, I probably told them the story of "the leech" eight times. What can I say, I was a little proud.

My brother and I spent a lot of time on the water in a paddleboat. I learned summer in Canada is not as warm as summer in Kentucky. The lake water was nothing short of freezing. But we couldn't vacation at a lake and not go swimming. Chris, Dad, and I swam in the lake with blue lips and chattering teeth while Mom filmed us. I distinctly remember Dad mentioning something about a "Polar Bear Club." There was a little wooden platform in the middle of the lake with stairs and a higher platform, which of course, we had to jump off. I was a little scared at first, but with the encouragement of my dad waiting below in the water to rescue me if I needed it, I jumped.

For me, baby ducks and leeches are that special time in a far-away land spent with my favorite people in the world. They are chilly water and lessons learned from baby animals. They are learning to trust and take a leap of faith.