It was one of the sunniest Sundays of the season, and Michael and I could hardly wait to get the boat away from the dock and out on the open water. Our busy lives make our time boating pretty special, and that particular afternoon was no exception. I always take an involuntary deep breath as we leave the breakwater behind, and I swear it's my body automatically exhaling whatever troubles I think I might have at the time.
     We were hardly out from the marina entrance and I had to take my sweater off, the sun was shining so warm on our backs. We put the lines in the water, but it wouldn't have mattered if the fish weren't biting. It was simply wonderful to be away from phones, kids, work and worries of every description.
    Then the plane came out to play. It was just a single-engine four-seater; it took off from Qualicum Airport, and we could see that the pilot was heading directly out over the Strait. He passed over our heads, and within moments was swooping and diving, down to the water, straight up into the blue, turning and diving again. After several heart-stopping turns like that, he did a few upside-down maneuvers, in both directions - turning first to the left, then to the right.
    The pilot was having almost as much fun as we were down below. I could almost hear him saying good-bye to his wife that afternoon, telling her it was such a beautiful day, he just had to go out and play!
    Finally, the plane flew off toward Mt. Arrowsmith, banked and cruised back into the airport. And our glorious afternoon was coming to a close, as well. We ate the picnic supper I had packed, and I had to put my sweater back on just as the sun went down.
    Hard to believe it was the 19th of November. Only in BC, eh?

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