If we lost heaven because it fell from the sky, I would say that I found it on the shores of Rice Lake.
The ethereal beauty of the glistening waters, setting off lovely islands here and there, encapsulates a quintessentially Canadian cottager’s dream.
I was greeted by a turkey vulture hanging in a tree, and a red squirrel, holding a pine cone several sizes too big for its mouth.
The gentle lapping of the water on the shore was a tranquil, soothing lullaby.
The lake was so thick with fish that they leaped out of the water to announce their presence.
My farewell was a surprise visit from a long lost love. The loon laughed comically as dusk approached; promising a longer song as darkness fell.
I wish I could hold that view forever in front of my eyes.
And respectfully remembering the Indigenous People who collected wild rice once-upon-a-time, along its shores.
My Wylde Lyfe 