Life at the Lake

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Some Representative Views of the Lake and Its Environs

The sun has not yet set, but already the moon has risen in a scudded sky
A pair of wood ducks on our dock rail, where we have a feeder placed specially for them. The only duck with prehensile feet, they can (and do) perch in adjacent cedar trees. These shy ducks will not be approached and feed only when left entirely alone.

Facing West, a brilliant October sunset holds the eye long after the sun is gone to bed

Nearby tulip fields of Skagit Valley. Actually our lake straddles two watersheds, the Skagit and Stillaguamish. But the former is more famous

.
Four domestic geese arrange themselves in eye-pleasing fashion

Ah, my boat and dock, though I used the motor
rarely and prefer to row, especially when I fish

Early moonset on the lake, a pretty time of day

Yes, it is I, with a bigger-than-average rainbow. Most our trout are planted small, but grow an inch or so a month during the summer, and by fall are of
respectable size. We always let them go.

Life At The Lake

A picture from yesteryear. Sorry, the female (center) has already picked her mate

571

This year we have three pair of breeding wood ducks on the lake at our location. Because we put out feed for them daily, and they are competitive feeders, on a good year we will see them often. By "often" I mean several times a day, and if the trough is empty, they will tell us so, and loudly. Almost always it is the female who bawls us out. And she usually gets what she wants and promptly.

Last year, and the year before, we waited anxiously for her brood to appear. When they didn't, we had a sad sense of loss. I did a little investigation with wildlife biologists I knew but without learning much; other lakes had abundant wood duck populations. Curt Kraemer guessed that maybe rats got them, the ducklings.

This year we have three pair and have watched them closely. My, they do eat a lot. On Mothers' Day, one of our hens appeared with three duckling in tow. We began to relax a little. Then yesterday my wife saw another with five. (It had to be a second female because the eggs all hatch at once and the ducklings immediately take to the water. And the drakes disappear and begin their molt.

The third pair showed up at the feeder today, but there were no ducklings with them. Tomorrow, maybe. I'll keep you posted.

570

It is admittedly a late spring. Today is May 5th and, finally, the flowering cherry is in fully bloom. The Japanese know how ephemeral the blossoms are. They may last a week. That is why they make pilgrimages of great distances to enjoy them and participate in the short season of their having bloomed.

And how lucky am I to have--right at close hand--my own blooming tree. I'll try to remember how fortunate I am when the time comes in a few months to rake up all those shiny green leaves and find a place to dispose of them. In the short meanwhile, enjoy!

569

This is the biggest moon to exist in our century, the newspapers tell us. Well, hooray! I waited for it all of my life, I guess. The full moon that night last month was as near to the earth as it will ever get in my lifetime or, I should guess, in yours. So I dutifully hurried out on the porch about ten in the evening and snapped a series of photos. The zoom lens had trouble focusing at infinity distance; well, so did I. I snapped off a series of pictures; the above one is at maximum zooming distance.

A tree in the foreground went unnoticed in the viewfinder. And where that ghost moon came from I have no idea. Of course I didn't see it. But the camera's recording disc sure did.

I'm glad I got it, though. It's the kind of serendipitous effect an amateur photographer is always grateful for.

568

Both the yellow iris and the purple iris are in bloom. The yellow we brought to the lake, but have since learned that is is classified as a pernicious weed because of how rapidly it spreads and will take over a wet area. Still, it is beautiful and cheery during a dark and rainy spring. But the purple iris is thoroughly domesticated and does not spread so vigorously. And to some of us it is even more beautiful, though long domesticated.

In my old age I enjoy photographing flowers, especially those my wife has tended so carefully . And I know enough about photography so that I can get great sharpness and depth of field, color saturation, and brilliance.

That is rewarding for someone who has no horticultural talent. And here they are again:

569

This is just about the worst year for trout fishing I can recall. I don't think the constant rain has anything to do with it.

The hatchery plant came late again and the fish seem an inch or two smaller than in recent past years. And the lake is clogged again with filamentous green algae, making vision for both the fish and the fishermen more difficult.

It is always easy, if you are a fisher, to blame somebody else for your lack of success. In fact, that is the characteristic that distinguishes fishers from "real" people--their ability to stand around and complain at such length.

Speaking only for myself, I am only catching the odd trout and, as a consequence, fish less than I do most years. That is more a change in behavior pattern than it is a vocal complaint. Though I suppose it is both.

More views of the lake