A Trip Back to Lazy Lake

This is Lazy Lake.. well part of it anyway. You can see why I loved the North Woods. Lazy is a private lake. Grandpa owned all the land that touched it. It was a quiet place, a lake that remains crystal clear and spring fed. The land around the lake is soft and spongy, mossy, and filled to capacity with frogs and things that little boys find fascinating.

The "pier" was five or six tall birch trees laid side by side from bog out into the water. It floated and moved as you walked on it, and as a child I was afraid that I would fall right through if I wasn't careful. This is where I learned to fish... with a cane pole, a bobber and the worms my Grandpa and I had dug out of the garden. I caught quite a stringer full. There is pictorial evidence of that. My recollection of that day is pretty much limited to that picture.. I was only 4. You could haul bluegills and sunfish out of that lake with the worst of worms.. Of course.. Grandpa could woo them out of the water and straight into the pan.. with just a wink and a nod.

Back in those days you had to cross the road from the main house, and find a little path.. back though the woods to find this piece of heaven. I remember the light filtering through the tall, swaying Birches, I can still smell the scent of the evergreens, the smell of the forest, and the sounds of the toads, frogs, and insects that called that place home. It was so quiet there.. compared to what we live with assaulting out ears today.. when you walked out on the pier you could hear the water lapping.. The bobber slapping on the water.. and that rush creating sound of that bobber getting pulled under..

Yes Sir.. those were wonderful days. It is a million miles from where I am today.. and another million from where I will be in another 40 years. But today.. for an instant.. I was there again, enjoying the day.. on a Lazy Lake.. Fishing.. with my Grandpa.