At Raith's Lake: Alone?

I've heard that what folks call rivers and creeks, lakes and ponds, mountains and hills, depends on where they are.

If the "hills" east of San Francisco Bay were in Minnesota, we'd probably call them "mountains." Someone claimed that Minnesotans call any watercourse that doesn't dry up in August a "river." There's something to that: Some of Minnesota's "rivers" are pretty small. But a body of standing water has to be pretty big before we'll call it a "lake." Generally.

Then, there's Raith's Lake. It's within an hour's drive of Loonfoot Falls: provided you know how to get there. It's a little easier to find than Lake 13. The nearest road is over a mile away, but If you know exactly what you're looking for, you can make out the cabin - it's more of a shed - by the dock.

Angus Raith built that cabin when he owned the land it's on, almost a hundred years ago. Like other owners since then, he used it as a source of water for his cattle and a place to cool off on hot summer days.

Some places are secluded. Raith's Lake is isolated.

Standing on the old dock, I've felt, well, exposed. Like everybody, or maybe everything, for miles around can see me. The pond is surrounded by hills, with a scattering of trees nearby: so there's something to that impression.

Oddly, the evening fogs around Raith's Lake increase the feeling that someone's watching. Or maybe something.

Next week: River Revel.