Nature Journal #1 - Lake Okanagan

 

In class last week, we discussed the poems “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud” by Williams Wordsworth and “Outside Lies Magic” by John R. Stilgoe – both of which reminded me of my relationship with Lake Okanagan in British Columbia, Canada. Every summer since my mom was 10 years old, my family has visited the Lake for a week-long vacation. To me, the Lake is and has always been magic – the first glimpse of the deep blue water as we make our final turn around “Shark Tooth” mountain, the long afternoons jumping off the dock and tubing behind the boat, the hours spent swimming in the Lake alongside my brother and cousins until our hands were pruney and it was time for dinner.

The Lake is a place of family, joy, simplicity, and adventure. It’s a haven where I’ve been able to diligently follow Stilgoe’s instructions: “Take it, take it in, take in more every weekend, every day, and quickly it becomes the theater that intrigues, relaxes, fascinates, seduces, and about all expands any mind focused on it.” Every summer, our week at the Lake is one of my favorite weeks of the year – and I try, with all my might, to soak in all of the treasured moments and tiny details so that I can revisit them once they’ve passed.

Our early mornings spent water skiing, waking up with the sun to be the first people out on the glass-like water; swimming out to Rattlesnake Island with my brother; games of Gin Rummy and 31 late at night as bats darted overhead. The glimpses of bighorn sheep grazing on the cliffs of the other side of the Lake; the owl who made a home outside of my bedroom window that one summer and whose call could always be heard if you listened closely enough for it. The bee stings, my Papa’s cherry cobbler, my Grandma’s apple orange peach popsicles; the time that my Dad tried to take my brother and me out fishing; keeping watch with my Grandpa for falcon nests atop the Kelowna Falcons’ baseball stadium lights, watching ospreys circle overhead and then dive to catch their dinner. 

Every summer, when I can feel vacation drawing to a close and goodbyes drawing nearer, I try to gather up and remember as many details as possible so that they stay with me throughout the year. Sitting here now, I can see the deep blue water, feel the grass under my feet, smell the burgers cooking on the barbeque, hear the owl calling outside my window, and taste the apple orange peach popsicles – and these memories “flash upon that inward eye, which is the bliss of solitude; and then my heart with pleasure fills, and dances with the daffodils.”