Cabins are shut up for the season, the lake now empty of swimmers and canoes. Distant laughter and barbecue aromas no longer drift across the water. The dragonflies have disappeared too, and taken the summer with them, leaving behind cool nights, misty mornings, and a new generation sleeping just beneath the surface.
At the moment I feel like I’m living in a big marsh. The earth is saturated and squelchy, the ditches are full and running strong, and there are puddles everywhere. After a week of heavy rains, the sun came out briefly yesterday morning to illuminate a layer of mist over the lake before once again being obscured by clouds.
During the all-too-brief period of sun we had last week, I took this image of three big-leaf maple trees growing in a wetlands area of the island. The tree-frogs were singing all around. I’m always on the lookout, but have yet to see one.