We went down to the lake

to skip stones

with the boy, turning into a man soon,

but still little enough

and joyful enough

to want to learn how to skip stones

from two old people. 

We were surprised he had never skipped stones before

and delighted to show him how to do it:

Look for flat, light stones,

use a strong, low level, horizontal throw,

and voilà--

multiple concentric circles in the water,

shimmering in the light and the gentle movement of the immersion.

After multiple attempts, I (the old lady) managed to get two circles,

the old man got none,

and the boy--the big boy with a football style body of muscled strength--

produced three gorgeous circles of rippling water.

He told us it was like pitching a baseball, 

proudly showing us how he had mastered his own unique style of making a ball fly.

We walked away from the lake, smiling.

Skipping stones, 

a reprieve from problems,

water and light and the soft descent of evening,

a boy and two old people.