I don’t remember how the idea came about, but somehow we got into our heads to get up in time to watch the sun rise over the lake. We knew that either the small beach or the rock (or both) would provide an excellent view, so we got up just as the sky was brightening and headed to the beach. L, deep asleep and unresponsive to most everything, stayed behind.

We first went to the beach, but that was a mistake: a small rise on the other side of the lake blocked the view of the sun breaking over the horizon so that by the time it was visible over the rise, it was relatively high in the sky. It took some work in Lightroom to make the shot look like a sunrise when in fact, it looked like this.

We decided that we should check out the rock outcropping with the idea that we might try again the next day. It was clearly the better location of the two.

The Boy was with us, but he wasn’t really interested in the sunrise. He wanted to fish. I’d mentioned the previous day that early morning efforts lead to greater fishing success, so when he heard us talking about going out to watch the sunrise, he was eager to take his fishing pole with him.

I talked him into heading out onto the rock outcropping and he cast his line. I positioned myself so the sun was just out of the frame and clicked off a picture. I didn’t really think anything of it, didn’t really think it would be an image of much more significance than all the other pictures I took, but when I got it home and in Lightroom, I had one of those rare experiences as an amateur photographer: I thought, “I took that picture?!”

Definitely, it’s in my top five all-time best pictures.

Morning we spent on the small beach. We weren’t the only ones with that idea, though.

That could have been a bad thing, but camping brings out a certain type of family, generally speaking, and we all were getting along famously soon enough. One of the families had small, child-size kayaks, and we asked if E could try it out.

He was instantly hooked. “We have to get one of these.”

He enjoyed kayaking with adults as well, but not nearly as much. That independence, once he got a taste of it, was incomparable.

Finally, as we were getting dinner ready, the Boy noticed a young man in a neighboring tent site.

“Mommy, can I go play with him? He looks bored.” We went over what he should say, had a little practice session with him (“Hi, my name is E. Would you like to play?”), and sent him on his way.