Don and I arrived at our campsite in the late afternoon, just after a front of rain and cold temperatures had pushed through from the northwest. A few RV campers had parked nearby but most of the sites were empty...this being a weekday in late September as the weather was turning. As we set up the tent, a brilliant rainbow formed...its northern end settled into the low hills at the edge of the lake. Rays of the setting sun hit the rainbow, lighting the mountains in a brilliant yellow haze.
As the rainbow faded, we set up our tents, unpacked a tablecloth and some food, sat in the tents to get warm, told stories. We half-planned some hikes for the next day. But in the half-light of the next morning, we spent several hours watching a bald eagle hunt for fish in the lake...swooping down from his high perch, sending the ducks squawking in a frenzy, hitting the surface with his talons extended, and heading off....if he took off down the lake flying low we assumed he had made a catch, if he soared easily back on high, we assumed he had missed. Only he know.
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