4 pm, Lake Louisa, back in camp after a bit of exploring.
We left camp after a breakfast of stewed apples and black bean cakes, which were quite good this time (I’ve had mixed success with this recipe, but I think the addition of dried egg crystals helped bind the patties together) but before we set off, I took some time to do some laundry, which has dried spectacularly (and smells wonderful!) in today’s sun and wind. That wind has now shifted and is blowing from the north, already bringing with it cooler temperatures this afternoon– it is about 10 degrees cooler than yesterday at this time.
It was quite gusty out there on the water. We had some whitecaps and a few decent swells to contend with as we made our way back to camp. The wind seemed to be swirling too, alternately blowing at us from the Northeast, then the Northwest. (no matter, North was the operative direction, and that means cold weather is definitely on the way) And so, we also zig-zagged our way from Thompson Bay toward the lee of the north shore and the shelter of these islands, in an effort to keep the wind and the waves from hitting us broadside.
We stopped to visit the lone campsite in Thompson Bay. While it had a lovely view from its broad sweeping granite slope , that was about all it had to offer. There were so many downed trees, it was almost impossible to find the path to the box, which once found we discovered was full of water! We’ve not seen that before. We weren’t sure where one might pitch a tent and the circle of stones that made for a campfire circle was sorely inadequate. It almost seemed the site had been abandoned as an official one (though it was still marked as such) However, there was an abundance of mooseberries — both large and small piles– and we presume it was a calving site this spring, so perhaps it is just as well that the area wouldn’t attract many campers. We had noticed a group, searching for a campsite, heading into the bay late yesterday afternoon, as dusk was beginning to fall, and leaving again first thing this morning, so they must have stayed there, but we can’t imagine how.
The lake is much quieter today. It had filled up quite a bit, since we arrived to a near empty lake 2 days ago, but today we found only one other campsite to be occupied, and a sole fisherman just paddled past. We are a bit baffled, as today is Saturday, and we presumed this might be a destination for long weekenders, but then again, I suppose if they are only free for a long weekend, they must break camp and continue along whatever loop or path they are taking to make it back out of the park on Sunday. Likewise, many who have had the leisure to stay longer, a week perhaps, may also need to be heading out, ending their trip tomorrow.
The second site we chose to explore, on the north shore across the water from our island, was a spectacular site though. In fact, I think I prefer it to this one. The 180-degree views of this island studded end of lake were stunning, and it had a long view to the east as well. We warmed ourselves in the sun on the large slope of exposed granite there, protected from those north winds by the buffer of land behind us, and where Don watched an ant tote his dropped sliver of carrot some 40 yards across its face. While we lunched, one of those wind gusts lifted the canoe off of the granite where we had pulled it ashore, overturned it and tossed it into the water. We almost had to go swimming (that would’ve been mighty cold) to fetch it! A small campsite was tucked in behind that slab of granite, intimate in the way we prefer– with a small, well-built campfire circle. From there you had a view of the lake as well, while cooking or warming up by the fire, while being sheltered as well by the trees overhead. The moose on this site however wasn’t so fortunate as on the previous one. Here we discovered a jawbone, a scapula, and 3 long bones.
Birth on one side. Death on the other. So close to each other.
I do find it amusing the way we sometimes spend our days here ‘campsite shopping’, imagining what it would be like to camp here or there, to breathe in the views from that perspective of the lake, to sit quietly beside that particular habitat, to pitch our tent in that spot. Is this a human thing– this imagining another way that one might inhabit this particular life– so many potentials that could be experienced (I’m thinking about that map from this morning’s pondering) Perhaps it IS true that we are reincarnated in many different bodies over and over again, and thus we get the opportunity to try out that alternate possible way of being, that alternate viewpoint, that different perspective, that other habitat. Perhaps we go ‘body’ shopping before we come back again, saying ‘I’d like to see life from that spot’. There does seem to be something in us that dreams of other possible existences — both different and ‘better’ — a better world for all of us, human and non-human alike. Something in us that yearns for something pristine, untouched, unblemished and whole. Perhaps we keep coming back until we make it so.
But there can also be a ‘never enough’ or ‘never good enough’ quality to the searching , rather than a settling deeply into the contentment of here and now— those cravings the Buddha described– always wanting something more, something different, a dissatisfaction or a regret. This exploration doesn’t feel like that, though, it feels more like delighting in it all (although there is that element of ‘next time’ — but , again, I intuit this ‘next time’ as something deeper than craving or wanderlust, something that recognizes, perhaps, that we contain, as Whitman said, multitudes, that we ARE all possibilities)
But, perhaps I am also making the proverbial mountain out of a molehill, waxing absurdly philosophical in justification of spending our day visiting random campsites….
Meanwhile, the wind continues to gust, chasing us into the sun, then calms again to chase us back to the shade.
an algonquin affair 