Chapter 67 Lake - 5

Sitting in a boat in a peaceful climate, you can see, near the sandy beach on the east side, at a depth of eight or ten feet, and in other parts of the lake, there are circular mounds , about one foot high, about six feet in diameter, piled with some cobblestones slightly smaller than eggs, and around these piles of boulders, all yellow sand.At first you will wonder if the Indians piled these boulders on purpose on the ice, and when the ice melted they sank to the bottom of the lake; but even so, the form was too regular, and some boulders, Obviously too fresh.They are very similar to what can be seen in the river.But there's no mullet or hagfish here, and I don't know which fish built it.Maybe it's a whitebait's nest.In this way, the bottom of the water has a more pleasant mystery.

The shore of the lake is extremely irregular, so it is not monotonous at all.I can still see with my eyes closed, the west bank has a deep jagged bay, the north bank is more open, and the beautiful, scalloped south bank, with capes overlapping each other, reminds people that there must be people between the capes. The unreached cove.Among the mountains, in the middle of a small lake, looking at the forests on those hills that rise upright from the water's edge, these forests could not be a better background, nor more beautiful, because the forest has been reflected in the lake, which is not only It forms the most beautiful prospect, and the winding lake shore just makes it the most natural and pleasant boundary line.There was nothing unbeautiful or incomplete here, like where the ax cuts a clearing, or reveals a plowed field.The trees had ample room to spread out beside the water, and each tree stretched out its strongest branches in this direction.Nature weaves a natural tapestry, from which the eye ascends gradually from the lowest shrubs along the shore to the tallest.There are not many traces left by human hands here.Washing the shores of the lake, just like a thousand years ago.

A lake is the most beautiful and expressive aspect of a landscape.It is the eye of the earth; whoever looks upon it may measure the depth of his own nature.The lakeside trees that the lake produces are its fringe like eyelashes, and the forested mountains and cliffs around it are its thick, prominent eyebrows. Standing on the flat sandy beach at the eastern end of the lake, on a calm September afternoon, when the mist obscured the opposite shoreline, I understood what I meant by the expression "glassy lake."When you turn your head and look at the lake, it hangs over the valley like a veil of the finest tulle, glowing against the distant pine forest, separating one atmospheric layer from the other.You feel that you can walk under it and walk up the opposite hill while still dry, and you feel that a swallow skimming the water might well rest on the water.Yes, sometimes they dip below the horizon, as if it were an accidental mistake, and then it dawns on them.When you look westward to the opposite side of the lake, you can’t use both hands to protect your eyes. On the one hand, you can block the original sunlight and at the same time block the sunlight reflected in the water; if, at this time, you can stay here Between the two kinds of sunlight, critically inspecting the lake surface, it just corresponds to the saying that the so-called "waves are as flat as a mirror". There was the most exquisite flash of light imaginable in the sun, and perhaps a duck would preen its own feathers, and perhaps, as I have already said, a swallow skitter over the water, low enough to touch water.It is also possible that, in the distance, a fish traces an arc of about three or four feet in the air, with one flash as it leaps up, another flash as it falls into the water, and sometimes the whole arc is revealed, silvery. but here and there, sometimes, a sprig of thistle floats, and a fish leaps to it, and the water stirs up another eddy.It was like a solution of glass, cooled but not congealed, and even a few grime in it were still pure and beautiful, like tiny eyes in the glass.And you can often see a smoother, darker body of water, as if separated from the rest by an invisible cobweb, a fence for the nixes, lying on the surface.From the top of the hill, you can see leaping fish almost everywhere; not a pike or silverfish catches a worm on such a slippery surface without disturbing the balance of the lake.It is marvelous that such a simple thing can be manifested so delicately,--the murder of the aquarium will be exposed--I stood far on the height, and saw the widening eddy of the water , and their diameter is five or six rods long.You can even see water scorpions (Gyrinus) gliding for a quarter of a mile in smooth water; Lan; and skimmers glide on the water without leaving obvious visible traces.When the water in the lake is turbulent, you can't see the water-grabbing insects and water scorpions. Apparently, only when the wind is calm, they set off from their harbors, and glide up from the side of the lake shore in a short distance as if exploring. , slide forward until they slide across the lake.What a joy it is.In autumn, in such a clear weather, I fully enjoyed the warmth of the sun. Sitting on a tree stump at such a high place, I had a panoramic view of the lake. I looked closely at the round eddies. Constantly inscribed on the surface of the water between the reflections of the sky and the trees, the surface would not be visible but for these eddies.On such a vast expanse of water, there was no disturbance at all, but a little bit immediately returned to calm and disappeared softly, just like filling a bottle of water by the water's edge, and after the trembling waves flowed back to the shore, Immediately smoothed out again.A fish leaps up, a worm falls onto the lake, all expressed in this way by eddies, by beautiful lines, as if it were the constant gushing of a fountain, the gentle pulsation of its life, the rising and falling breath of its chest.Whether it was a tremor of joy or a tremor of pain, it was impossible to tell.How peaceful is the phenomenon of the lake!Human work shines again as in spring.Yes, every leaf and twig and pebble and cobweb shone again at tea-time as they had exposed themselves to the dew on a spring morning.Every movement of an oar, or every worm, sends forth a flash, and what sweet echoes the sound of an oar!