Yesterday I was thrilled to spot a kingfisher in the trees along the shore. Heard the rattling loud cry--thought at first it was a pileated woodpecker. In 23 years on this lake, I've never before seen a kingfisher. Much, much bigger than a British kingfisher. And oh, so noisy!
This morning I had a Cinderella-among-the-cinders moment down in the boathouse. Scouring the grunge from the water filter with an old toothbrush, I remembered that a friend of mine spent the weekend at the Hay-on-Wye Festival as a featured speaker and generally being fêted. Envious? Well, I do love Hay. And literary festivals. But here I was on Golden Pond, basking in sunshine. It's my understanding that the rains falling on Hay were Biblical in their magnitude.
Today I walked the dogs' legs off them. We had a very lengthy walk late in the morning. Along the way we saw Camp 1907 head into his drive in his flash car, a bright red vintage Corvette convertible. We met 2 and 1/4 dogs. The 2 were large and on rope leashes and live in Massachusetts and their people own the large compound that straddles both sides of the road. The 1/4 dog was very small and poodle-ish and came from the Point and was being walked off-leash, so we altered our route. Jewel is quite certain that the entire lake belongs to her and doesn't take kindly to intruders.
On our final walk, we noticed many an SUV with lifted hatch, as the holidaymakers stowed their possessions and their dogs, large and small. We felt lucky that we needn't leave the lake for a while yet.
Returning to the cottage, I settled on the porch with a small pitcher of homemade Pimm's.
As I sipped and read about fashion and frivolity in the pages of the current Vogue and W and Tatler, Jewel did this...
...and Ruth did this.
So ended a day that felt almost summery--a foretaste of days to come. The expected rains never materialised in these parts. Not yet, anyway.
No comments:
Post a Comment