Life On a Lake 

Dedicated to the Joys of Waterside Living

"Some Birds," charcoal and pastel drawing by myself, nfs
 

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The wood ducks returned a week ago, and a familiar pair came to our porch rail very early in the morning  looking for their special, expensive food we leave there for them, as bait. they are no less shy than in past years, which means "no petting" and no contact of any kind. We are luck to get with a dozen yards of them, porch or beach or dock, and off they fly, with their unique squeaking sound of alarm.

But other species  are absent from the lake this year and pose a cause for concern, perhaps alarm -- ringnecked ducks, buffleheads, lesser scaups, hooded mergansers. Where are they, and what is more, where were they, for now is the time for their seasonal departure.

How can they leave, when they never showed up? Is there some environmental bad news pending?

Store-bought tulips on the porch rail

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A day so dark that the tulips declined to open up and show their faces.

The wild trumpeter swans of Lake Ketchum, from a drawing by yours truly afterwards rendered digitally in red

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People who live in the Pacific Northwest are not particularly friendly. Neither are they unfriendly, in the common sense of the word, meaning, hostile or going out of their way to be unpleasant or objectionable.

What they are is "non-friendly." We need to coin such a word to better describe this attitude. They are inclined, many places, not to say  hello to their neighbors. They will walk or drive right on by you, without so much as a nod or a kind word--even though to offer you one requires practically no effort. I wonder why they do this?

Their behavior continues to baffle and befuddle me. I'd like to think of myself as fairly friendly, that is, not friendly to excess (I am a near native of this region, after all) but almost always ready to stop and exchange a friendly word. But I am frequently met with a cold shoulder, or rebuff.

I was today from a man who is not quite a near neighbor. True, he was tracking down his dog, a boxer, a breed that is not particularly obedient or eager to please its owner. And so this man, who I often wave at, did not speak to me, while I was out in front of my home, shooting baskets. I stood ready to exchange a pleasantry or two, but he was in no mood for conversation with me, however brief. Quickly  he corralled his dog, tried to snap it on its leash, failed to, and returned home, the dog following him at a goodly distance.

I saw neither of them again today, while I took my turns at the  hoop. And in retaliatory fashion, when he drives by in his work truck tomorrow or the next day, I will not be inclined to wave, as I usually do.

And so it goes, as one non-friendly act piles atop another, and we go on our ways, and time passes, all of us remaining virtual strangers. How sad.

Hilary as a grinning Mona Lisa

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I have a lot of worries, these days.

For instance, would President Hilary Clinton appoint Ted Kennedy to the Supreme Court? If not, why not? He might be instrumental in her successfully being reelected, if Florida or Ohio go the way they have in the past.

Things like that.

Thanks for the visit,
Robert C. Arnold, Editor