The serenity is AMAZING!! We have "our end of the lake" to ourselves right now, except our animal friends and the flies! Yuck! There are flies everywhere! Maybe it is the time of year, or maybe because during "the season" where we are staying allowed horses. If anybody has any tips regarding how to keep flies away I will be eternally grateful!
Let me see if I can catch some of you up. The RV is cosy, like a small one bedroom apartment, but it is quite comfortable. I don't feel cramped for space at all, and it seems so much easier to keep clean. Right now, we are living in a "primitive campsite" which means we have no electricity or running water except our bathroom. I am surprised at how easily I've adapted! I've always liked camping, but I've never done it for this long. Oh, we do have propane which runs our stove. Really it seems like a small price to pay for this experience!
It is odd how one's perspective can change very quickly! I find myself loving the solitude, which is a surprise for such an extrovert--yet I've always been comfortable with my "own company." The other day, it was a Wednesday, and all the recreational boaters and fisher folk had been gone for about a week. I was reading and looking across the lake. The lake was as smooth as glass--really unusual for "windy Kansas." I spotted a sail boat off in the distance. I was a big beautiful one with white sales up and the sun gleaming off the bow. First it occurred to me, how are they doing that? There is no wind! Having only limited sailing experience, I knew there was likely a motor of sorts on board, but the sails were really flapping and it was going fairly swiftly without a breeze in the air. Then my thought drifted to (even more importantly) who has time off in the middle of October to go for a sail on a relatively deserted (at that point) lake? It's not like it's South Beach where the wealthy sun and sail all year long. I watched the boat all d day long, from about 9 a.m. to about 5 p.m. The wind never picked up.
That night as it began to get dark, I glanced toward the lake, my eyes barely catching the lake. I was suddenly startled with the swift images of red, rose yellow and orange moving quickly like a live entity. The lake was on fire! At least that is what I thought for about one half of a split second. It was the night before a full moon, and the moon making it's October appearance over the water literally played a symphony of colors and movement as it rose to it's "Jack-o-lantern" color and fullness. I was transfixed just watching it. I have never seen such a moonrise! When it finally rose over the lake itself it washed the landscape in bright roses and yellows. As the night progressed the colors turned to more of a yellowish glow. I wished I had a movie camera at the time and in fact, I could have taken a movie with my cell phone, but I was too focused on the show to even think of that at that time.
Then there was last Saturday. I decided to go fishing, or as we like to call it, I went to sit, catch nothing and lose hooks. None the less, hope springs eternal. Saturday I decided I wanted to catch a cat fish. Cecil is very good about cleaning what I catch (or so he says--I have not had much opportunity to test him...), and I decided I would love to have catfish for dinner. So there I sat patiently with my pole and stinky "blood bait." Now, for those of you not well versed in fishing, fishing for catfish has it's benefits, other than just the bounty should you like catfish, as I do. For an "uncoordinated" fisher person, such as myself, after "casting" the bait appropriately (which I can always get Cecil to do after I've swung stinky bait everywhere) it is a sitting, watching and waiting game, quiet and serene, unlike when I flail around casting with lures and getting hung up on everything including myself--and don't talk to me about fly fishing, that is an art! I still can't master getting a regular lure in the water without catching myself or a "stick fish".
So, there I was very quietly enjoying myself (after Cecil had "relaunched" my stinky blood bait). Then a visitor arrived. It was a huge white heron. He was about 20 feet from me, and every bit of three feet tall when he stretched out. apparently, I was at one of his favorite fishing holes. He was absolutely un phased to see me sitting there with my pole. I think he maybe even snickered a bit with his big beak. Obviously, he'd seen me fish before. He knew I was no threat. Pretty soon I saw him do some kind of a birdy dance. He would crank his neck this way, and then that way and then twist his neck in different positions. At times like a pretzel and at times like a snake. Then in a split second he'd have a fish in his mouth and gobble it right down right in front of me, as if to say, "HA!bet you can't catch one!"
Then he decided to rub a little salt in the wound, He began to walk over to me. He was very graceful and purposeful. He didn't "slink" over like he was afraid I'd see him. I think he was showing off. Maybe he figured if I can't catch a fish, he didn't need to worry about me! He got to within about three feet of me. He now made a point of stretching his swan like neck as long as it could go. And then the birdy dances began again, and then gulp. More fish down the hatch, or should I say gullet? This went on for what seemed to be hours, but actually was only about two hours. I of course, not to be outdone, managed to catch a "moss fish"--I truly do believe he could snicker, beak and all. Finally he was joined by several other friends. Well, it is one thing to be snickered at by one bird-- a family was more than I was willing to take!
I walked myself back to my site. I could still see him feasting (I mean how much fish can one heron eat???) A great deal I guess. I did feel a little better when I realized he apparently was the "Master Fisher Bird" of the crew! I only saw a couple of the others catch a fish before they all packed up their tackle and went home. It was quite an experience though! And even if he was a "show off" the heron was incredibly beautiful! Now Cecil said that all his gyrating was his attempt to act "as a lure" to trick the fish into believing he was something edible for them. I don't know if that is true--I still own some swampland in Arkansas...
