Life On the Lake 

Dedicated to the Joys of Waterside Living

"Ken Lay dies of massive heart attack," say the papers
 

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If you believe this, you'll believe most anything. Like usage determines the price of energy. Or Iraq had weapons of mass destruction ready to use on US.

Remember those old Nazi war criminals? They too dies of massive heart attacks in prison. Cyanide poisoning nicely mimics a heart attack and usually can't be detected in an autopsy. Lay faced a lifetime in jail and a ruined reputation, plus the loss of his personal billions.

What a great time to have a heart attack. And--notice--nobody is saying much about it. Not his pastor, not his attorney. Come on, where are the news hawks and commentators?

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A slow shutter speed near dark will almost make a picture look like this. Or else a strong wind. If you have neither, try panning the camera left to right with a shutter speed less than 1/30 of a second.

The slower the shutter speed, the less you have to move the camera.

Of course some people don't like blurry pictures. See below for the same scene real sharp. Now, which one is best?

Okay, the sharp one then.

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When my son was born, some 45 years ago, I bought a brandy rose plant and greeted my wife with it when she came home from the hospital. All three thrived. Then, maybe ten years later, the brandy rose began to droop. By degrees it died. I waited, hoping for signs of new life, but instead encountered a withered stem and stalk. The following spring, no green sprouts. So I pulled it up out of the ground and still remember how easily it gave up the ghost.

I've tried new brandy roses since then, but something untoward always happened to them. (Son thrived, however.) Then, when we came to the lake, I tried another. No luck. And another. Bugs ate it up and the blooms opened with full destruction, if you know what I mean. This year, much the same thing; the first three blooms were full of rose decay (whatever that is). And this one, well, it is not perfect.

But it will do. Please overlook the bug spots and enjoy it, as I am. Soon--in this recent record-setting June hot weather--it will be gone. I've decided against cutting this bloom and bringing it inside, thinking it would wither even faster. But even remaining outside, its life will be ephemeral.

That's not so bad. Most good things don't last forever.

Sunsets come late in June, and often it is the reflected light that is most brilliant and illuminating

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These days linger long into evening and darkness comes well after nine-thirty.  Fishing holds good, and it is no secret, with boats coming in clusters at various times of the day, and many of them leaving with limits of rainbow trout. The spiny rays are hitting now, too, and I see stringers of fish being dragged behind boats as they motor to the public access.

People with stringers believe that keeping fish alive maintains their freshness longer; a doubtful practice, especially when the weather is cool, and most unmerciful. I think it is a habit picked up from parents, particularly parents in warm climates, and totally unnecessary here.

What they do is fasten a snap hook through the fish's jaw, then toss it on a chain over the side of the boat, and go on fishing. There is no limit on perch and crappie in Washington State, so the number of retained, suffering fish is technically infinite.

Most trout fishermen let their catch go free, these days. But those who like to eat non-store-bought trout kill their fish quickly by snapping their little necks, or bonking them on the heads, and then put them in a ventilated creel to keep them cool. And the cool weather abets this practice nicely.

When you have a lake that, by agreement long ago with the state department of fisheries, provides a public access, you have annual stocking of trout. The spiny ray population supposedly repopulates itself prolifically each year, in spite of their being no limit to the numbers of fish that may be kept. Or so the reasoning goes.

At my lake, perhaps due to weed treatment with fluridone and other chemicals, we have lost a lot of surface pond weed because property owners like the swimming pool effect. They want to keep the lake spiffy for the grandchildren, who come to visit rarely and often don't swim when they do arrive. But we are losing populations and whole species due to overfishing and loss of cover. Large-mouth bass are down to basic maintenance levels and black crappie (a wonderful flyrod fish) have been gone from the  lake for about five years now.

 How sad, but I have to admit--at least this year so far--the lake is quite pristine and pretty.

Lychnis coronaria (Abbotswood Rose) and poppies in the side yard
 

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You know what I hate about reading The New Yorker?

All those little mailing cards you have to pick up from the floor afterwards.

I mean, does anybody ever fill them out and send them back? I doubt it.

Rain plays havoc with the dying tulips. Gone, but not quite

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So, what kind of holiday was it? Well, a wet one. Pity the poor campers, though well-warned by the weather bureau. It must have been simply miserable for many.

Rain on Friday, rain on Saturday, rain on Sunday, and not just a gentle, springtime shower or two; hard, steady rain, hour after hour. On Monday, the Memorial Day Holiday itself, it rained in the morning and gloom held long into the afternoon of the last day of the three-day weekend. Then it started to clear. One by one the power lawnmowers started up, seemingly with a vengeance. (Our own, a push-type rotary job, makes practically no noise.)

Soon the lake was aroar with people frantically cutting their grass. Of course it was wet, but not so wet as earlier in the day. And long--how long. It was ten days without a mowing, where normally it is but a week.

Today, the day after the holiday, it has been sunny all day, with the temperature in the low 70s. And isn't it often the case? I remember so many Memorial Days and Fourth of Julys when all outdoor activities got rained out. And when I fished steelhead, the rivers were alive with brown mud.

Thanks for the visit,
Robert C. Arnold, Editor