A spectacular sunset on a rare evening boat ride. Water and sky meeting in benevolent flames.
The world is just dripping with jaw-dropping wonder.
Since I have a lot of catching up to do, I decided to break with form and put all my daily photos from our week at the lake into a single post (mainly to spare my email subscribers a total barrage of Terra).
We had a great time, as always. Memories were made, wildlife witnessed, great food consumed. Cold beer, boat rides, fishing, a grand parade. It was pretty much everything you could want from a week at the cabin (except, maybe, another week).
My eye is drawn to pattern. But it is the flaw or abnormality that makes it truly interesting. In theory, tire tracks in the sand should be ordered, regular; I like how the tracks don’t hold. The relative strength or weakness of the impressions. The mild disturbances. The parts that are missing. There is so much to see (even when there is nothing to see).
142/365: sand tracks
I was kind of a lazy photographer on this trip to the cabin. Saturday was so gorgeous, so uncharacteristically warm & sunny for mid-May in northern Minnesota, I just soaked it up and sat near the water as much as possible.
These shots were taken near dusk when our 8-month-old puppy, Rocco, decided to take a seat next to Brad and join us at the picnic table after dinner. He not only got away with it, he seemed to fit right in.
Our favorite destination on any boat ride is the eagles’ nest. The gigantic structure sits perched in a tall tree on an island overlooking the expanse of Big Sturgeon Lake. I like the stand of scraggly, grizzled old trees almost as much as an eagle sighting. On a skinny spit of land that sees its share of harsh winters, the trees are an assemblage of characters, like the town elders, each with a story to tell and the scars to prove it.
As you might have guessed, I’ve never been afraid of spiders. I credit kind-hearted Charlotte with my affection for these fascinating creatures. The funnel web spider is particularly cool, building large nets across the ground that include a little tunnel – like a hunting blind – where the spider can hide in wait. (This one just emerged on top of the web for a look around.) In the morning dew, the webs are not only easy to find, but totally spectacular creations.
The lake at the cabin is the color of tea. For years I assumed that it was the iron – this is the Iron Range after all – but it turns out that it’s a tannic lake; the brown color comes from decomposing leaves and wood, not iron. It’s crystal clear, it just has a warm color. When the sun shines through the shallows, the rays dance like streaks of honey on the golden sand.