Every morning upon waking my first gaze is out the window to see what the lake looks like today. I’ve lived here for over 20 years, and before that, it was my family’s summer home. What amazes me is that it looks different every day. It could be the weather, the season, or the varying time I rise.
A summer resident recently emailed me to ask what is was like on the lake that day. Then she said, “Write me a picture.”
Can you see this:
Today, the lake is liquid blue, with scattered arenas of ripples stretching their way across the cove. Waves that could easily turn to whitecaps roll and roll towards a destination unseen.
Waving left, and towards shore, then right and away from shore. Back and forth, scattered here and there. These breezes would send a sail slapping, slapping as it tried to gain a tack.
Smaller ripples in big bands of brightness reach away and return, changing the deep blue to a pale blue and back in the blink of an eye. The disturbed ruffled areas are interspersed with calm, floating small swells, and occasional sections of utterly flat. One needs to continually look closer to see if the water molecules have subcumbed to the cooling temperatures, for some areas are so flat they must be frozen..
How to describe this ever-changing mass of liquid? I feel like the early Arctic peoples trying to create names for all the different types of snow. I better get started…