Minnesota is the “Land of 10,000 Lakes,” most of which are in the northern half of the state. Last weekend we visited a camp in the Brainerd Lakes area and explored three of those lakes by boat, bike, and on foot. We boated on Pelican Lake, which encompasses over 8,000 acres with miles of sandy beaches and cabins. As anybody who lives on a lake knows, the water reflects the sky and indicates the weather along with its overhead partner. The sky was cloudy and gray when we boated to Bird Island to entice the seagulls, and the lake water was dark and leaden. But later in the afternoon, the clouds moved out, the sun shone warm, and the lake glimmered blue.
On shore, the lapping waves had pushed up sand, sticks and shells where the sedge grass and dazzling swamp milkweed grew.
A delighted camper had collected a handful of striped shells, then left them in the sand by the dock as he hurried away to the next activity.
We biked to a nearby lake that was small and uninhabited by humans. From a viewing deck we watched a pair of courtly swans as they glided into the weedy cover across the lake. Their fine white feathers glowed in the sunlight and reflected off the smooth parts of the water.
Beaver lodges covered in logs that the master builders had gnawed down seemed to erupt out of the water.
At the third lake we discovered a carpet of lily pads close to the shore in green, yellow, orange and red held up by the steel-blue water.
Partners in Beauty–the sky and the lake, the shells and the sand, the graceful swans, the beavers and their logs, the lily pads and the water. In this tiny piece of creation, the beauty is overflowing.
Ellen Deane Schwieger says
Lilypads look ready for a frog convention or concert.
Denise Brake says
That would be quite a symphony!