The Lake Below

Another strange phenomena occurred that happens to me in the mountains. We looked up the side hill for Nancy, but we couldn’t see her at all. We wondered where she had gone, It turned out that she indeed was climbing in plain view, and sure enough she could easily see us on the lake. We reunited on the beach for a campfire. On the way back, we tried to find a drier route, which turned out to be wetter. Suddenly, we heard voices in the dark forest; two conservation officers.

One of the officers was six foot tall and muscular. Only when he recognized me, did I recognize him; the eyes of a little boy, I once knew. (That’s another story for my other column, but that’s exactly why I love writing my other column, ‘What Happened to the Kids’.) The older officer told us, there was a ‘dry’ trail, that didn’t cross the swamp, that lead all the way to the lake. The following week, with other friends, I tried to find that trail, but we ended up halfway up the mountain, which turned out to be a good thing because the lake was in the clouds and the mountain was not.

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