We were allowed to sleep slightly longer on July 5 before being dragged right back to Chris’ favorite swimming hole. But, even this (all too) minimally later hour led to an remarkably different view at the lake.
On this trip, we arrived just as the sun appeared over the trees to the east – and began burning off of fog along the southern shore.
As you can see, Chris was surprisingly oblivious to all of these aesthetic nuances. Her far greater concern being whether or not someone was going to throw the damn stick.
