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Lake Keowee & Me
by:
DeDe
Norungolo
Torn between an ending and a
beginning
 I’m
torn ... . I’m torn between being happy that the days are cooler and
sad that the Jet Ski has been pulled out of the lake.
I’m torn … . I’m torn between being thrilled that
summer has passed, which means less wear and tear on my mom’s dock,
and disappointed that my friends will be here less and less.
I’m torn … . I’m torn between being excited about the
beauty of a winter sunrise and melancholy about the reality of an
earlier sunset.
I’m torn … . I’m torn knowing that the Tiki Hut is
not open year-round and realizing I can’t afford to find another
favorite fun spot.
Simply, I’m torn.
This, however, is not really that unusual since each
year that I have lived back home in South Carolina I have
experienced these same feelings. Living on Lake Keowee is a
wonderful experience of push-me, pull-me experiences that can only
be summarized as being torn.
It’s not always a “love-love” relationship here at
the lake. No, indeed, there are those moments of frustration that
arise when boaters race by the dock abandoning any right-of-way
rules or distance regulations. Particularly painful this summer has
been the high price of gasoline at the pumps, which has limited the
use of the pontoon and the Jet Ski.
In fact, the pontoon only left the dock a total of
four times for short runs. My brother-in-law, back in July, rode the
Jet Ski the most when he pulled his daughter and her friend on a
tube. I put the water craft in at Cane Creek, took it out at Cane
Creek, put it in at Cane Creek and took it out again at Cane Creek.
I suppose I should acknowledge the one day when I ran the Jet Ski
for several hours playing with a group of friends who had camped at
Crooked Creek.
This has been the summer of less waterfront
activities, for sure. I’ll mark this as the first season I did not
run toward the dock blowing my whistle to defend the imaginary “No
Wake” zone. I think the only time I used the air horn was to get my
dog’s attention.
What we noticed more on the lake this summer is that
there were fewer boats, less boating accidents and less
wear-and-tear on our dock. One might suggest, however, that less is
more and I should reframe my thinking in that way. After all, I did
have more time to complete a master’s program, travel to Colorado,
visit friends in Greenville, cut grass, plant camellias and pal
around with my niece and nephew.
Still, I’m torn. I’m torn between calling it a
season’s end or acknowledging a new beginning here on Lake Keowee.
Dede Norungolo lives along the shore of Lake Keowee.
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