There are some things you just have to see to really understand and appreciate. Words can't always describe adequately all the wonders my eyes get to see. But, since I am not an artist and words are kind of my thing, I am going to try to verbally paint a picture of the grandeur of this place that is Henry's Lake in Island Park, Idaho.
Jay's tests were done. He was scheduled to go back to Africa in a week. So, we hooked up the boat and the trailer and headed to the lake for a few good days before he had to leave. As usual, we were not dissappointed. The sky was blue with just a few high clouds. The wind was just right to give us a perfect floating speed across the lake and the fish were biting.
As the day came to an end, I looked around and that's when my breath was really taken away. As we sat there, gently floating on the sapphire waves of the lake, I looked to the South and saw the majestic purple spires of Sawtelle peak soaring into the dusky sky. To the West were the rolling foothills against the shores of the lake, the last fiery glow of the setting sun painted their ridge. To the North were more jagged mountains that looked like they had been draped with a velvety green cloth that softly covered the peaks and filled the valleys. These mountains gently sloped to the East and into a lush green meadow lined by bushy willows. The sky held a few puffy clouds that were bathed in gold from the last rays of a quickly setting sun. The air was clear and crisp and as the light faded and darkness flowed in, I could hear the mournful wail of the cranes drifting and mixing on the breeze with the lowing of grazing cattle. Like a soft, wispy drape, night fell upon the little bowl of the lake where it nestled, surrounded by hills and mountains. With it came the peaceful calm that is night time in the mountains.
We put the boat on the trailer and bedded it down for the night and back at the campsite we sat next to the crackling fire and listened to the coyotes howl. No conversation was necessary. We both just sat quietly and let the night and the fire and the breeze do the talking. It is at times like these that I thank my Father in Heaven for one of His greatest gifts, and that is this amazingly beautiful world we live in and the opportunity that I have to enjoy it.
Just in case I didn't do justice with my words, I have included some pictures. If anyone needs a day in Heaven, let me know and I'll take you fishing at Henry's Lake.
Jay's tests were done. He was scheduled to go back to Africa in a week. So, we hooked up the boat and the trailer and headed to the lake for a few good days before he had to leave. As usual, we were not dissappointed. The sky was blue with just a few high clouds. The wind was just right to give us a perfect floating speed across the lake and the fish were biting.
As the day came to an end, I looked around and that's when my breath was really taken away. As we sat there, gently floating on the sapphire waves of the lake, I looked to the South and saw the majestic purple spires of Sawtelle peak soaring into the dusky sky. To the West were the rolling foothills against the shores of the lake, the last fiery glow of the setting sun painted their ridge. To the North were more jagged mountains that looked like they had been draped with a velvety green cloth that softly covered the peaks and filled the valleys. These mountains gently sloped to the East and into a lush green meadow lined by bushy willows. The sky held a few puffy clouds that were bathed in gold from the last rays of a quickly setting sun. The air was clear and crisp and as the light faded and darkness flowed in, I could hear the mournful wail of the cranes drifting and mixing on the breeze with the lowing of grazing cattle. Like a soft, wispy drape, night fell upon the little bowl of the lake where it nestled, surrounded by hills and mountains. With it came the peaceful calm that is night time in the mountains.
We put the boat on the trailer and bedded it down for the night and back at the campsite we sat next to the crackling fire and listened to the coyotes howl. No conversation was necessary. We both just sat quietly and let the night and the fire and the breeze do the talking. It is at times like these that I thank my Father in Heaven for one of His greatest gifts, and that is this amazingly beautiful world we live in and the opportunity that I have to enjoy it.
