I wake up several times during the morning, but I don't drag myself out of the tent until nearly 11am! I must have been tired...

I stay in camp, read, gather wood and fish a bit. I catch a 2lb smallie, but let it go as it's too much meat for one person.




I read more Cortazar and some Gary Snyder (The Practice of the Wild) -- the Snyder is hard to get into at first (too much environmentalism, too much chastising modern society)...I just want to read his thoughts on life and the natural world. It gets better after the first chapter or so -- anecdotes and history almost akin to Annie Dillard. A hummingbird buzzes by while I'm reading. The local red squirrel shows up to yell at me a bit so I get the camera out.

I notice some kind of shore bird (Spotted Sandpiper popped into my head, which was confirmed as correct after the trip).








Later I make some dinner and read a bit more.

Then I take photographic advantage of the early evening light.






After dinner, while sitting and reading by the fire, I realize that I feel so "me" at that moment that I should document it for posterity.




I then take further advantage of the light.

The sunset was beautiful.






I head to the tent around 10pm -- tons of spring peepers calling after sunset. Also an alarmist beaver or two are smacking their tails on the water off shore from camp and there's one lonely grouse drumming away in the woods. Ah, I'm so glad to be home...