On the Lake

Waking to exactly the sort of crisp, sunny, crystal-blue-sky morning that requires a drive to the Big Lake, I decided to do just that. Of course I brought the Dar cd along!

Passing the field where the appaloosas graze on gorgeous mornings like this one, I spotted an unfamiliar horse in the crowd, an all-black one.



On the way, I paused at the convenience mart with the cheapest diesel around and topped up my tank. Couldn't help myself.

The villages at the bottom of the lake were busy--it's Saturday, after all--but no traffic at all on the winding road leading to my winding road in the woods.


On our road, nailed to a tree, is a special sign. It's been there as long as anyone can remember. Proudly we can boast that we live on the "only divided highway in town." Impressive, right?


And here's what our famous "divided highway" actually looks like. (I believe this is an illustration of what's referred to as wry Yankee humour.)




Exiting the car, I was greeted by the wonderful smell of wood smoke wafting from a neighbour's chimney. It's that time of year.


I settle down on the dock to work...at first concentrating is a challenge, my office view is so very splendid. Hardly more than one motorcraft an hour passes by, although I've seen several sailboats. All the summer people have gone, and the leaf peepers haven't yet arrived.


Glancing up and to my left, I spy the cottage through the trees, perched on the ridge.




A pleasant spot to await a phone call from the one I love--who departed London earlier today and headed to Dublin. And is probably quaffing a Guinness right about now.

Two other people I dearly love are in Edinburgh. No doubt sipping a peaty single malt.

And here am I--in paradise. At this particular moment I wouldn't exchange places with anybody.