Walking on Water
Year in and out after the lakes freeze solid enough we all can walk on water, or ice.
But the spring days when a melt is on and the ice is still VERY thick, though covered with water, the ability to walk on real water, with ice beneath it by a few inches is simply that much more delightful.
The light at sunset after a hard day working give opportunity to see the light from above and below, and behind the grasses standing tall even after a long winter.
Threesome.
More some.
My perfect lodging for the evening, to stay in the clear air, watch the lake at night, and sleep in the great quiet. Later when it warms the beach will be crowded, but for now … solitude.
Spring Break
Skiing is a bit of work to find the right place, but they are numerous near Cold Lake. There are a few people who would love to see this with us, but they are busy, so out we go to enjoy the day by ourselves.
Nestled under the pines, it is quiet and warm under a bright March sun.
We take a break to go skiing, what else is Spring Break for?
Across the Lake we take a short break. Nature’s wonders provided by man-made structures.
The Lakeview is marvelous.
Most spectacular in panorama.
One really needs a 20’screen to appreciate the whole view.
There are moments that become available just because one seeks some fresh air for a night.
The landmarks stay the same, the fog and light shift as the sunrises.
And it is just outside our door, because we can haul the front door around behind the truck, along with a bed, table, stove, fridge and even a kitchen sink. A bit much for a guy who loved backpacking into the outback where no one else ventured to disturb a good night’s rest. Now we haul a toilet and electricity with us, not least of all to power a 27 inch screen to edit photos on.
Luxury. Well it may easily become my home permanently, so not really, not at -40° and +35° C.
It is officially Spring, but tell that to the snow of a foot in the last quiet day.
It started to fall nice and softly, on and off for more than a day it fell without a blush of thunder or despair. Just fell one little inch at a time, until it recovered the ground cleared pretty well for the crocuses to bloom.
I’ve yet to find a hillside of them here, and now the snow would have covered them another few days from reappearing.
But off where few people travel we found a place to bask in the mosquito-less lake front.
After hours of shovelling to get into a place out of the way enough to stay a day, and a rest for recovery, the sun appeared bright and warm, unexpected and not for long.
The sky came alive.
Sky Bright
Previous visitors left Olaf’s cousin to fend for himself, and Kathie decided to level him starting with his all too small head. So after reconstructive surgery with the elements at hand, Olaf’s cousin Otto stands against the trees, leaning on a borrowed staff,
Otto, Olaf’s Cousin
And asking if he’ll have eyes to see with again, and a nose to delight in at all.
Out on her own walking the ice, Kathie’s glove has a life of its own as she bares her hands to take a call.
There is life out here, even after the snow, traipsing around, leaving tracks, knowing the empty table is useless until its filled with a feast for ants and visitors of all kinds.
Across the water the evidence of beaver new and long since given their best effort to fell a tree from beneath. Seems to me the beaver survived only because he was not successful.
It takes an experienced eye to note the effects of the cold on the view out the window.
But they are all there.
Clarity, steam, bright sky, sharp snow, shadowed exhaust from the roofs, and quiet stillness.
No one wants to be out and about when it is nearly 40° C colder than a week ago.
And then of course there is this clue, if you take the time to read it:
A thermometer.
Remember those old things that used to tell us what the temperature was, instead of reading it from a dumb device hooked to the internet, repeating to us through the ether a thermometer’s result from somewhere, maybe, close by pumped to the internet via another dumb device. Sorry, “smart” is not what happens to a thing when it’s hooked to the internet; “hacked” is, which makes it really dumb and the designers even more so.
So it took a few days to catch up to put these on the blog.
I wake on this day so long in coming, and out the door I step with bathrobe, boots, parka, hat, gloves, and camera, to the stillness of heart, mind and world that only the wilderness can afford.
Only the quiet of nothing brushing across the freshly sunlit snow
Fallen the last few days to bring spring to an end
And the wonders of winter covering like a blanket of frozen breath what once whispered a promise of green buds, bird songs, and mosquitoes.
Let the chill keep the bugs at bay for another week or more, a month or three as is seasonally to expect.
Here the water flows despite the minus 25 degrees Celsius.
The sun is warm on the trees and behind them sparking anticipation of a full bright day after three of clouds and snow drab grey.