What makes a river so restful to people is that it doesn’t have any doubt – it is sure to get where it is going, and it doesn’t want to go anywhere else.” – Hal Boyle
Lake Walcott puts on light and music shows daily. I love to sit on a bench nearby and let my mind drift into calmness. -- Photo by Pat Bean
Travels With Maggie
Water soothes me. There’s something about the sound it makes as it laps against the shore that vanishes the rest of the world for a little bit.
Having lived for many years right on the Texas Gulf Coast, I’ve set for many an hour mesmerized by the way light played through the gulf’s waves as they relentless rolled forward onto the sand. These days my water fix comes in smaller packages.
Here at Lake Walcott, where I walk daily by the 11,000-acre reservoir, I never cease to be fascinated by the water’s mood.
This day the lake was restless. -- Photo by Pat Bean
On the May 15 day I arrived to begin my summer campground hosting duties, it was in the throes of a wind storm. The lake water was dashing against the shore, sending its spray onto Maggie and I when we got too close. .
I was just giving Maggie a quick walk after our windy drive, and didn’t have my camera with me. Back at the RV, I decided to rest a bit before going back out to record the fury. Bad decision. An hour later, the wind had ceased and the lake was once again calm. I’ve never seen it quite that angry again.
Most days, the lake transforms itself frequently between a gentle rustling to mirror calm. Other days, it can send fishermen in their small boats dashing for shore; and because the winds here can blow up suddenly, anyone leaving their boat unattended on the water over night risks losing it.
Gypsy Lee is parked about 150 yards away from the lake. Unless it is overly restless, I can’t hear the water’s drum beat against the shore when I’m inside my motor-home. I can, however, almost constantly hear the symphony performed by the Snake River, which feeds and flows out of the lake.
The Snake River below the Minedoka Dam that created Lake Walcott. -- Photo by Pat Bean
A siren signals the release of water from the dam, and I know on hearing it that the river’s rise turns up the volume of the music. When I first got here, because of rain and snow melt, that siren was going off every few hours.
A white water stretch in the Snake just below the dam particularly roars with intensity when the river rises. Depending, I think, on the direction of the wind, the river music can either sound like a revved-up dragster or simple be an unrecognized part of the background, like the silent running of a refrigerator.
The lake and river music drown out the chaos of the real world, which is probably why I find water soothes my soul.
What soothes yours?
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