It has the clearest water and trees that have grown just perfect for climbing. The dead, brown grass crunches beneath my feet, and ghosts of the past call out my name to hear their story. Standing outside the gate, the house looks as though it would devour me in a quick second if I tried to get in. Jump the cliffs. It oozed history, from the mysterious rusted can I found on the ground a few feet away, to the broken words nailed near the pointed top.
Snow leaves a blanket of white broken only by color from the evergreens.
Few sounds break the silence of winter, but occasionally a chickadee sings his song to give comfort and hope to the creatures hidden around the lake. I'm wearing shorts and the cool morning air raises goosebumps on my legs. I wash my face in the icy water, the sun shining as brightly in the mirror lake as it does in the heavens. Native Americans considered it sacred, the miners believed there would be lots of gold around it, and cattle barrens from Texas thought it was the best grazing land they had seen in years. At first glance, it looks like one river dumping into another one.