Temperatures, probably like where you live, are soaring into the 90s. The grass is turning gold, and the amount of water on the vegetables is a always being adjusted by human intervention. When the air is this hot, swimming is a constant, all day affair, for everyone.
When the air is cold, the lake talks to us in sonic-boom reverberations through her process of relinquishing her fluid into a solid mass. But, it is in summer, under extreme heat, that the lake reveals her true character.
At no other time are you more aware that the lake is not a large static puddle for fish, turtles and frogs. When the air is hot, and your skin hits the water, that familiar cold blast of refreshment is gone. Undependable, that lake is. Instead, the water is hot too. The lake breathes. She is its own organism, instantly responsive and forever yielding to what ever Mother Earth throws at her.
I can only dream that heat! Love the top shot with the mid leap, clutching a swim noodle…
Does your lake have a name? She ought to have a name….
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