The Right End of the Lake

It's a warm weekend afternoon. We have the same idea hundreds of university students have: get outside.

Most of the crowd are navigating the trails, so we have our choice of fishing holes. We choose the dock.

The water looks and feels just right.

We toss out a wax worm or two and lounge in the sunshine. The breeze can't blow away the warmth. Sebastian quickly finishes off his snack of choice.

But the fish, it seems, don't care for a snack. Time to hike.

We make a big loop through a land of dragons, and Sebastian the dragon hunter kills many with his trusty sword.

In a pause between dragon attacks we listen for the peepers down by the lake.

There is a flush of green here and there. Dragons or not, this is no land of desolation.

The sun lowers as the path starts downhill. We stay alert to danger by keeping a close eye on tracks.

The path takes us down to the opposite end of the lake from the dock. This is new country for us. There's a feeder creek flowing through a wide marsh...

...and millions of frogs. We look for tadpoles just in case, but it's too early.

Spring Chorus

This end of the lake looks fishy, and there is a couple fishing here. They look like they know what they're doing.

As Sebastian conquers a mountain, I talk to them. They think this little lake is fishing better now than the giant reservoir down the road. They've only caught a few today, but yesterday they caught more than twenty. On wax worms, she says.

Sometimes everything depends on whether you've chosen the right end of the lake.