The lake has become part of our living experience. It is a threshold we pass when we leave the car and head to the cabin —in that time I go through a decompression. Nothing matters anymore, just the experience of crossing the lake in silence to a sanctuary. By the time we reach our dock we feel different. The air, the temperature, the scent of the forest and the soft ground covered in pine needles, the sound of birds and a clear view of the horizon; all of these things heighten our senses.
This is the first time for me to live by a lake. It is beautiful and always seems to be transforming. The light changes dramatically and I have never been so aware of the skyscape. The weather and cloud formations seem to take a turn as they pass over the water. The light shifts dramatically over the surface plane and the texture and skin of the water is always at play. Sometimes it is still like a sheet of glass and at other times it is threatening with whitecaps.
As the sun is setting in the west, the rock face in the bay glows and is rendered by the reflection of the waves climbing up its surface and onto the pine trees above. We often swim out into the bay and experience it from the water.
The thermal dynamics shift during the day as breezes move towards the land and at night they are drawn towards the water. This observation was important to consider when mapping out the design of the cottage.
In the fall, the mist rolls in off the lake into the bay and the horizon disappears. As it lifts with the heat of sunshine the vapour evaporates within minutes and unveils the landscape.
I have heard about the time there was a flash freeze in the winter. The lake froze completely clear and people were skating on the surface and able to see fallen tree limbs and rocks under the water. One of the strangest things I’ve seen is the formation of crystalline frost on the shore in the winter. They look like plucked feathers. I don’t think it’s common and it shows how magical nature is.