A Perfectly Good Lake

There are two kinds of creatures in the forest.

Those who see a clear mountain lake sparkling beneath the summer sun and think, I need to get in there immediately.

And those who look at the very same lake and think, That appears to be an enormous bowl of outdoor soup.

Otto belongs firmly in the first group.

For an otter, a warm summer afternoon beside the lake is practically an invitation. The water is cool, the sun is shining, and there is plenty of room to dive, roll, float, splash, and generally behave like an otter who has been given unrestricted access to his favorite place.

Echo does not share this enthusiasm.

An Otter in His Natural Element

River otters are wonderfully adapted for life in and around the water. Their streamlined bodies, strong tails, and webbed feet make them agile swimmers capable of moving smoothly above and below the surface. Their thick, water-resistant fur helps insulate them from cold water, while sensitive whiskers assist them in detecting movement and navigating underwater.

Swimming is not merely transportation for an otter. Otters also use the water to hunt, explore, socialize, cool off, and play. They may dive beneath the surface, twist through the water, chase one another, or simply float comfortably when the mood strikes.

To Otto, this is all perfectly reasonable.

The lake is cool. It is peaceful. It is refreshing. It contains interesting fish, aquatic plants, insects, smooth rocks, and countless opportunities for scientific observation.

Most importantly, it is an excellent place to float on his back and briefly forget that field notes exist.

Echo Evaluates the Situation

Echo, meanwhile, sees several serious problems.

First, the water is wet.

Second, most of it is deep enough that standing is no longer an option.

Third, entering the lake would require him to leave the dock, where he is currently dry, comfortable, and in complete control of the trail mix.

Otto attempts to explain the lake’s many benefits.

“You can dive, roll, and float!”

Echo remains unconvinced.

“All available on land, with less drowning.”

This is not entirely accurate, but Echo has never allowed accuracy to interfere with a strong objection.

Ravens are perfectly capable of bathing and will often splash in shallow water to clean and maintain their feathers. But there is a considerable difference between a quick, dignified bath and voluntarily launching oneself into the middle of a mountain lake because an enthusiastic otter said it would be fun.

Echo’s feathers are, as he carefully explains, “a precision instrument.”

They provide insulation, protection, flight, and the dramatic silhouette necessary for silently judging everyone from a tree branch. Such equipment should not be submerged without an extremely compelling reason.

Otto’s promise that the water feels wonderful does not qualify.

The Importance of Doing Absolutely Nothing

Summer encourages a particular kind of urgency. The days are long, the weather is warm, and it can feel as though every sunny afternoon must be filled with plans, projects, hikes, garden work, or some other productive use of daylight.

But sometimes the best way to enjoy a summer day is simply to find a perfectly good lake and spend some time there.

You might swim across it.

You might paddle around it.

You might sit quietly beside it and watch dragonflies skim across the surface.

You might climb into a small boat, open a bag of trail mix, and insist that being on the lake is entirely different from joining it.

There is no single correct way to enjoy the outdoors. Some of us want to jump directly into every experience. Others prefer to observe it carefully from a dry and defensible location.

Otto does not understand how Echo can resist the water.

Echo does not understand why Otto keeps voluntarily entering it.

Still, they spend the afternoon together—one happily swimming beside the boat and the other sitting safely above the waterline with the snacks.

Because friendship does not require sharing every enthusiasm.

Sometimes it simply requires finding an acceptable compromise and agreeing that no one will splash the precision instruments.

Field Note: A perfectly good lake can remain perfectly good without everyone getting into it.

Echo’s Addendum: Being on the lake does not constitute joining the lake. This distinction is final.