Mucky Business
On such a beautiful morning, I chose to forsake the sunlight for shade and the pleasure of watching the beaver. I found a safe spot for my bike and after a little searching, a good hiding place for me to sit on the bank, camouflaged behind a cover of leaves:
Disappearing under the water, leaving a trail of bubbles as the only clue to its whereabouts. It would then resurface, depositing a heap of mud from the lake's bed in a pile. It's a very mucky business:
The beaver submerged one more time, but did not resurface. After a short wait, a telltale line of bubbles appeared for me to sharpen my focus on, but instead of the beaver, another huge snapping turtle appeared for a moment before it too disappeared:
I could tell that the beaver was still active. Occasional ripples over the water's surface betrayed its presence, but it did not show itself again above water. I was hopeful that I had taken a handful of sharp photos in such low light. It's never certain until I review the photos back home. I decided to make my way to the well-lit side of the lake where I met a local gent, a frequent visitor to the lake in the mornings, having his breakfast with his friends, the ducks. We both commented on how beautiful the morning was, as we looked over the lake, captivated by the graceful arctic tern hunting for its breakfast:
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The beaver was in construction mode at Lakeside Park, splitting its duties between its den and then working further upstream:
The beaver submerged one more time, but did not resurface. After a short wait, a telltale line of bubbles appeared for me to sharpen my focus on, but instead of the beaver, another huge snapping turtle appeared for a moment before it too disappeared:
I could tell that the beaver was still active. Occasional ripples over the water's surface betrayed its presence, but it did not show itself again above water. I was hopeful that I had taken a handful of sharp photos in such low light. It's never certain until I review the photos back home. I decided to make my way to the well-lit side of the lake where I met a local gent, a frequent visitor to the lake in the mornings, having his breakfast with his friends, the ducks. We both commented on how beautiful the morning was, as we looked over the lake, captivated by the graceful arctic tern hunting for its breakfast:
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