Evening at Tern Lake

Perfect weather, perfect temperature, little breeze.  The blue kayak almost jumped into the back of the truck and the truck almost drove itself to the lake.

I managed to launch without dunking myself.  Actually, launching is ever so much safer than getting myself out of the kayak, which I attempt to do by driving the bow as far as I can into a grassy spot on the bank that "somewhat" anchors the craft and helps prevent it from tipping over.

Not to worry about that now.  Off I went to check on the loons and beavers.  Rounding a grassy island, I saw both loons in front of me.  I rested the paddle across the kayak and drifted to about 20 feet from the large birds.  They didn't seem to mind, though they have no young to protect this year.

I lingered, taking photos, while the loons dove and came up, dove and came up, apparently feeding on small fish.  Then they started playing games with me as I suspect they were swimming under the kayak to come up on the other side.

I moved on, paddling towards the beaver lodges.  I checked all three lodges, and saw no signs of beaver activity.  I hope someone didn't trap them all last winter.

I did see this Goldeneye family.  In a far quiet corner, cottonwood seed collected like snow against the grasses.

 I was watching the Arctic terns fishing for food, trying to get in position to capture a shot of them, but they move so quickly, it's a miracle to do that.  Finally, I found one resting.

 

Another tern was perched on a dead tree.  It decided to buzz me just for fun.

I paddled back across the lake just as the sun was disappearing behind a mountain.  In the last rays to strike the water, another family of ducklings headed for safety.

I found the perfect spot to cram my kayak onto the bank, a place where the tall grass almost held the kayak steady as I tried to get out.  Here's the problem:  I sit almost on the floor on the craft so when I ram it onto the bank, I have to attempt to stand up from a position where I am leaning backward.  In other words, my feet are higher than my butt.

I have the sense to have my cameras in a sealed plastic bag, which I place on shore before I try getting out.  That night was successful.

Just as I was getting ready to leave, the setting sun turned the bark of the paper birch mauve.  One last photo, one perfect evening at Tern Lake.