“Aki, how many times have we rounded this tiny lake?”
My little dog ignores the question. I want to point out the calmness of the lake water. Its surface has turned into a mirror that reflects the the clouds. In past summers, a roosting duck, maybe a golden eye, would swim by us, throwing an investigatory look our way as it passed. Today, there are not ducks. There hasn’t been a duck on this lake since the spring migration. Nothing distracts from the clean, crisp lake water or the spruce force that climbs from the shore up the side of Thunder Mountain.