The mornings on the river are the most calm and peaceful. No one has stepped in the water yet, so every tiny speckle of dirt is in place on a rock. I timidly walk into the water, with the kayak floating behind me. Stepping in deep enough into the water I attempt to get on the kayak without disturbing the dirt on the rocks. Where I normally try to find a big rock to push the ore off, a hand is settled there instead. It could of easily seemed like elongated rocks perfectly placed to shadow a hand covered with algi, but the pinkish finger nail facing up at me made it unmistakably recognizable. My sister always did commented on how I could point out a fresh manicure within five feet of us. This hand, at some point, had definitely had a fresh manicure.