Tranquility can be close at hand

N.S. NOKKENTVED

Originally published July 17, 2001

You don't have to go far to enjoy the outdoors around South Sound.

My wife and I took the canoe for an after-dinner outing recently on Chambers Lake. Ten minutes from home we were at the boat ramp at the north end of the lake. Moments later we were sliding silently through the black water as we wound a slalom course between the rafts of lily pads.

Chambers is one of the many small lakes in north Thurston County -- a legacy of the glaciers that once covered much of the Puget Sound region. These little lakes offer a variety of outdoor activity -- from championship bass fishing and water skiing to model boating and swimming -- and for me on this evening, a few moments reverie among the waterlilies, reeds and sedges.

The low sun danced across the surface, ruffled by a light northerly breeze.

We glided past a house tucked into the trees, with a horse pasture facing the lake.

The unusually dry year was evident in the low water level. The floating docks and boats at several homes rested on the mud at odd angles, stranded by drought.

Birds abound

The lake shore was a primer in local bird life.

Ducks and geese, though wary of the long green vessel quietly approaching, were not spooked by our presence. In the reeds, we were greeted by the distinctive trill of male red-winged blackbirds.

A small dark bird walked across the lily pads in the deepening shadows of shoreline trees.

Above the lake, a group of starlings harassed a pair of red-tailed hawks, who tried to maintain their dignified soaring sweeps. Below the aerial combat, a flock of Canada geese soaked up the last rays of the sun on a well-groomed pasture.

In the shallows at the mouth of the channel that in wetter years connects the two parts of Chambers Lake, we see a great blue heron standing -- meditative, catatonic, stiletto beak poised to strike. With a prehistoric squawk, the large bird lifted in ungainly flight.

Peaceful place

Near the canoe, something roiled the murky water. Perhaps a large fish -- I'm guessing carp. I've seen people fishing out here on this lake, but no one was wetting a line on this evening. We had the place to ourselves.

Out on the lake, you could hear the noise of scurrying traffic and booming stereos, but it faded away at the far end, deadened by thick woods that offered little clue to what was beyond. Here the lake offered tranquility and respite from the rigors of the workday.

Discovering places like Chambers Lake is one of the rewards of my recent move here -- nothing spectacular, but close to my new home and plenty there for eyes that want to see. A good pair of binoculars come in handy.

We reluctantly paddled for home as the sun's last traces faded from the underside of thin wisps of cloud.

N.S. Nokkentved covers the outdoors for The Olympian. He would love to trade his computer keyboard for a nice wooden canoe paddle. He can be reached at 360-754-5445.

The Olympian Copyright 2001

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