Day At The Lake

I promised myself some time away from media, TV, internet, books, and the inside of a building. Since the symbology of Lake is cropping up from yet another direction (for a later story), what better place to go.

So I ventured over towards Lake Washington, and quite easily found a lakeside park in Kenmore that I had never noticed before, just a short right hand turn from a road I have been many times, Log Boom Park.

I was all prepared for a comfortable adventure, (comfort - a theme you may have noticed, I just chuckled when I saw the adjective spontaneously chosen). 

Hot steamed veggies plus a very other nutritious items, and chai straight from the now very handy Wholefoods, and voila - dinner at the lake.

Luck or divine intervention had left the closest spot to the walk to the open for me. (Or it may truly have been the fact the playground was clear on the other side of the parking lot where most of the people were.)

As I parked, there was a large easily read sign heading Historical  Path (which always is nicely into my next lake story).

I was pleased to see multiple benches, and tables on a clear path, on the edge of the lake, on the edge of a marina. Peaceful, walking along the path so close to a busy world, alone in my little space, concrete sidewalk sidling up to nature, comfortable, comfortable. 

Then up popped some ducks. Well, actually they didn't pop up at all, just seemed that way as I noticed them in my little reverie. Have I told anyone in along time I love ducks, maybe because the passion has faded a way, I've forgotten myself, or am just too tucked away from the natural world.

There they were a beautiful duck couple out for their evening dinner at the lake.

They seemed not phased at all by me. Foraging along. . . 

I enjoyed the view, and dinner. Shortly, a very professional looking photographer (translate this as a gentleman with a great big "real" camera with long telescopic lens) appeared, looked to be diligently following, photographing

a single male mallard duck.

thinking about how his distinct colors are now camoflage

and then

reminders of the parks logging history

wondering a the chain wrapped around the truck - captive tree

ever so peaceful

then I saw a group of teen boys headed my way, acting and sounding ever so rambunctious,  prejudice

brings up thoughts of being bothered. . . thoughts of irritation. . . isn't so easy to be peacefully alone.

Well, I was ready to get up anyway, I decided to walk out a little way on the "pier", the young man decide on the same path. . . sigh. . . then one of them yells, "Look a turtle!!!"

and we watched the turtle

I wouldn't have seen the turtle . . . 

then

one of the young men went over near the mallard couple who were now sitting on a railing. . . 

he stood very quietly for a long time with his hand outstretched not moving  . . .

then instead of walking off down the pier where his friends had gone, he walked back over to me saying almost softly, "I just wanted to pet them. . . "  I remarked how I used to bring food to get them closer, and eating out of my hand (as a child of two we lived near a park with ducks that were indeed fascinating).

He went off to join his friends, I stayed watching them, the turtle, the sunset

then he wandered back to the spot where the ducks had moved to further down the rail, and resumed the same, beautiful waiting. . .

His friends came back, and they all filed past me, he looked me right in the eye, "Next time I am bringing food." I replied thanks to all for letting me know about the turtle.  . .