Writing in the canoe - 8am
Sunny, wind out of the NE, but just a 3 inch chop on the water, a bright reflection off of the water right under the sun.
The floating bridge to the north forms a dark low wall across the lake, a great wall of China. Is it a defensive wall, or an offensive wall?
On a whim, I change from N to NE and head for the other side of the lake (it is 2 miles to the passage under the bridge). I cross a broad Gilligan zone, but there are few Gilligans at this time of the morning. Now, I can turn my head to the right and see Mt. Rainier.
On the east shore, I pass a fisherman and an immature eagle slips down the hillside and out over the lake. It heads north.
Heading back west, the lake is calmer than before. The water is smooth undulations reflecting light in turn. I see the TV towers and the dome of Holy Names, my house is midway between. The Volunteer Park watertower (a great and free viewpoint) is harder to spot with it's shallow conical roof blending into the treetops that form the skyline.
Almost to Union Bay, an osprey flies overhead. The first I've seen this year.
More motorboats. A motorboat full of guys passes. They have clad themselves in "wife-beater" shirts, which look so fine on their Barney Rubble bodies.
I'm not done, yet. So, I continue west, through the cut, through Portage Bay, and south to the bottom of Lake Union.
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