I've had the best ever bonus time this year--extra and more extra nights to sleep in the boat house. I won't sleep there unless the temp is at least 50 (I've toughened up considerably--my minimum used to be 60). Some mornings when I'm there it's in the 40's and I have my coffee in bed those days. The rest of the time I sit on the porch and stare into space. My tolerance for cold amazes me but I seem to enjoy being chilled.
One morning the whole lake was covered with an intense and complete mist--you couldn't see anything. I had an incredible urge to paddle my kayak straight into it, just to see where I'd end up when the mist lifted. I'm basically chicken, though, and didn't do it. Instead I watched the mist lift. The water is still warmer, at 64, than the air in the morning.
My nights in the boat house are magic. No sound on the lake, no sound in the morning either. Sometimes the loons, sometimes the leaves rustling if there's a breeze, but lately it's been completely silent. Then the dogs come along, jingling their collars and lapping a drink from the lake. It's just a miracle to be there.
We had 2 pairs of loons on the lake this year. One pair had one baby (I know, not called a baby, but everyone on the lake has been keeping track of it and we all call it the baby loon). We watched the mom when she was swimming with the baby on her back, then the baby swam between mom & dad for weeks & weeks, while mom & dad murmured to each other.
Finally baby learned--slowly--to put its head under water, to dive, then to catch fish, and is now almost as big as its parents and is wearing winter plumage. The association that studies and bands loons came to Silver Lake and discovered that our mom is 6 years old and was banded at the next lake over (Taylor Pond). Way cool. Anyway ,the loons have been really vocal all year, from both ends of the lake. Our community is always proud of our loons ("Loons? oh sure, we have loons.").
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