Plunge

Monday brought my first real open-water swim of the year! My previous attempt - in a wet suit - from about a month ago when I lost feeling in my hands and feet after about ten minutes doesn't really count. It was refreshing, literally and figuratively, to struggle against the elements and get hit by the waves in the face a few times outside of the hospital-room safety of the swimming pool.

Welcome to the much-awaited summer swimming season!

As luck would have it, I am now a thousand miles away in another country. Hopefully, there will be more swimming and some worthwhile photographic opportunities.

And internet access. :)

Breaking the Ice

Spring is really here. Less than a week ago, my personal natural swimming pool, errr, lake looked like this, and now all the ice is all gone. 

There is a great Russian expression about melting ice that comes to mind to describe certain current geopolitical events, but, despite my normal verbosity, I can't think of a suitable English-language equivalent.

So enjoy the view. :)

Snow Moon

On Friday, I stayed up late after all.

Late enough to observe the Moon over the lake making the valley's lights that much brighter.

Just like I wanted.

"What are you doing on the balcony?"

"Watching the Moon."

"Photographing?"

"No, just watching."

The winds were so strong pushing the clouds so rapidly that this created an optical illusion of the Moon traveling through the sky, while at the same time remaining stationary.

I reluctantly went to get the camera.

Swan Lake Solitude

I will not mention Tchaikovsky. I will not mention Tchaikovsky. I will not mention Tchaikovsky. I will not mention Tchaikovsky. I will not mention Tchaikovsky. I will not mention Tchaikovsky. I will not mention Tchaikovsky. I will not mention Tchaikovsky. 

;)

Actually, this kind of scenery is only worthy of the one and only, my favorite Mussorgsky! The Old Castle, perhaps? 

swan lake 850 px url.jpg

Dwarfed by the Landscape

"I used to swim here?" were the first words that ran through my mind when I briefly stopped by the lake. Not only was the water iced and snowed over for as far as the eye could see, but there were also several brave souls, both human and canine, far away from the beach skiing over what were once deep and, at times, turbulent glacial waters.

Last February, I went dog-sledding on a different lake in this area. Even though I felt uncertain about being on ice that late in the winter, I trusted the guide.

Perhaps it's my Russianness, but I often display excessive obedience in the face of authority: there were no signs here, so I felt like I was breaking the law just walking around!  

The basset felt otherwise:

He tracked his canine friends (or future enemies!):

And generally seemed quite triumphant. Whereas I was awe-stricken by how tiny he appeared against the mountains covered over by the brooding winter clouds, he was just happy not to be thrown into the lake by his at-times crazy water-loving human mom (i.e., yours truly).