A Portrait of Paradise: A Summer Day at Pyramid Lake

Morning:  The day dawns cool and clear, the lake as smooth as glass.  I'm almost reluctant to disturb its perfect surface as I launch my canoe.  Almost.  Who could resist slipping silently through that silken water?

In the quiet shallow end of the lake, Water Bulrush (Schoenoplectus subterminalis) holds its needle-thin stalks above the dark, still water.

A closer look at the bulrush's curly inflorescence.

Thick mats of Water Lilies limit my penetration of the swamp.  So I sit very still and listen to the dawn chorus of the birds.

Old stumps and fallen logs form nursery beds for many damp-loving plants.  The bright-yellow flowers of Horned Bladderwort rise from a rosy patch of Round-leaved Sundew.

A closer look at that Sundew reveals the winged evidence of previous insect entrapment.

I have company this morning: this regal-looking Great Blue Heron moves at a stately pace not 20 feet from my boat.

Tiny frogs hop about on the Fragrant Water Lily pads, keeping their distance from that hungry heron.

Afternoon:  The breeze picks up and a small sailboat flies across the surface of the motor-boat-free lake.  Those comfy Adirondack chairs invite me to sit awhile to enjoy the view of forested mountains, as well as the lulling whispers of wind in the pines above my head.  Soon, I'm drifting off to another dreamland.

After my little nap, an afternoon paddle takes me past bouldered shores decorated by vivid pink spears of Steeplebush, while bright-purple spikes of Pickerelweed emerge from the shallow water.

A curious Loon surfaces near my boat and studies me with its red eye, before diving again and disappearing beneath the green ripples.

Evening: After supper, I slip my canoe back into the lake and find a sheltered place under an overhanging tree to watch the sunset.  I soon have a companion,  a spider who drops on a single filament from above and dangles before my eyes.  We sit quietly together and watch as the lake exchanges its colors with the sky.

The breeze dies down, and soon all is silent except for the haunting call of a loon sounding across the dark water and echoing from the surrounding mountains.  The lake grows so still, the stars begin to shine on the water's mirroring surface.

All is well.  Safely rest.  God is nigh.