Last Fall I spent a lot of time in an old fishing boat that had been left on the bank. It became a sort of security blanket, when life became overwhelming. Sometimes I’d just sit in it and let squirrels throw nuts down at me. Other times, I’d push it out onto the lake, and lie back, and think, and half-hope I didn’t float too far away. It’s not there this year. Someone carried it off. Maybe they needed it more than I did. Maybe they just got tired of me stealing their boat.