Can a water bug be “perky,” I wonder, watching the lively little creature scoot across the lake surface.
I am sitting on a sunwarmed rock on the shore of Lac des Mille Lacs.
Lac Des Mille Lacs translates to “Lake of a Thousand Lakes” and is located in Ontario, about 70 miles west and slightly north of Thunder Bay.
Its name is accurate for it truly is one in a thousand— huge, beautiful and wild.
Goldie the lab and Magoo the pug frolic on the water’s edge, climbing small rock piles, drinking from mossy pools, dragging driftwood from under rocks.
I inhale the bright morning air that vibrates with early spring energy.
Chores are waiting for me, but I can’t tear myself away from this sun-drenched beach. Thedishes can wait.
Thewater bug continues on his merry way.
Is it newly hatched and where do water bugs come from anyway?
On the small island across the water to the west, birch trees show the first hint of spring’s green/gold.
A duck hurtles through the clear air. I look up into the turquoise blue sky. Is it a Bluebill? I’m not sure.
The duck disappears from sight, somewhere on the point to my right. Pine Point, I believe it is called. With good reason. Several large white pines on its shore tower above the other trees.
The lake water this year is extremely low, leaving hidden rocks and beaches exposed, so I sit on a newly uncovered rock jut-out, taking in the sun and stunning beauty of the lake.
A slight breeze bounces off the lake, a breeze that could grow strong and cold or dissipate into a warm day. I decide to wait and see what happens.
Too often life pulls us away from moments like this. The phone rings. Ah, but up here at remote Lac, there is no phone service. Too often email waits for an answer. Ah, but here I receive no wireless Internet.
I am trapped. Trapped in a moment of pure beauty and joy.
Several minutes later, I am rewarded as the winds dwindle to almost nothing.
A loon calls…the scent of cedar and green growing plants waftsthough the air. The water bug makes as if to swim out into the deep, then returns closer to the shore.
Often, life’s ebb and flow does not allow for moments like this.
But not here, not this morning. I stay for a long time and watch the water bug’s escapades as it flits back and forth across the shoreline.
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