(Editor’s note: Columns may contain opinion, and those opinions belong to the author.)
It was a cloudy spring day with rain in the forecast when a group of kayakers pushed off from the shore, the plastic hulls settling into the water as the noise of the outside world magically faded away.
The Savannah River stretched out ahead in soft greens and gray, the air damp and cool. Paddles dipped into the water with a steady albeit different rhythm, and before long, the clamor of daily life was replaced by rippling water, birds flying overhead, and the anxious anticipation of what waited around the bend just up the river…