The sun was setting behind the clouds, lighting the sky in soft muted colors of blues and pinks as a misty rain fell intermittenly. Occasionally a dark line of geese would pass us, flying faster than we could ever move the boat, and out of the corner of my eye I can see that among the green of the trees lining the river, a tint of gold has begun to appear.
I shake my head a little and a bead of sweat goes by my eye, but no time to wipe it away. "Seat number six, faster with the hands and arms! You are late!" comes the coach's call, and I concentrate, working with everything, mind and body. The treasured, hoped for words come like audible gold: "Good job, seat number six."
And for that one moment, the world is perfect.