Lake Wisconsin

Time to write:  Think of a memory triggered by a smell, sound, taste or touch and write about it.   Use as many sensory details as you can while writing.  Those sensory details will help your readers experience your scene more deeply.  Those will help recreate the mood of your memory.

    The water laps rhythmically against the aged wooden pier.  The waves echo as they gently push against the boat launch. 

     The breeze is warm and humid as it brushes my face.  It is a slight relief from the muggy air that surrounds me.

     Across the lake there are tree-covered hills, lush and emerald green with a light mist hovering over the hills in the distance.    There is an old white farmhouse and barn tucked into the hills, with farmland running right up to the river’s edge where it intermingles with the lake waters.

     Lake Wisconsin was once farmland until they built a dam at Prairie du Sac.  The lake was created out of low-lying farmland.  Tree stumps still come to the surface of the lake after over 70 years of being submerged. 

      When you round the curve of the land past the old white farmhouse you enter the Wisconsin River with glistening white sandbars and rugged bluffs that swallows nest in.  We are down river from the Dells, but some of that beauty is here also. 

     There is only one boat on the entire lake at this moment, its motor muffled by the distance between us.  The only other sound is bird song and the waves rippling to the shore.

     This morning I caught the aftermath of a fish leaping for its insect breakfast.  It was so fast I only catch the splash as it re-entered the water.

     At sunset, the sun’s rays streamed down from behind the gray cloud, making the heat bearable as the day draws to a close.  Different birds give their calls almost as if they are taking turns.    The silvery water is smoother now, with just a hint of a breeze from the northeast.  The breeze has a ‘fishy’ smell and the air is filled with the moisture of an impending storm.  Canada geese float by peacefully through the pale green lily pads.  All is peaceful again since everyone has gone indoors for the evening.

      Thousands upon thousands of fireflies now hover over the lawns at dusk.  I sit on the pier and look to the land to watch the surreal sight.