Lake Lyndon

Snowmen abounding on the sides of the road and in paddocks. Cars stopped as families take a break from driving and create their own version of the much-loved figure. Sticks for arms, stones or carrots for noses, beautiful round heads some having toppled off already, And a very big sign in a paddock saying “Big bull is angry. Grumpy Farmer is angrier. Do not trespass.” His message still lost on some snow-hungry travelers who happily risked all to climb the fence and find larger stocks of snow for building.

Heading into the Southern Alps we came across a frozen fairyland lake with lots of parked cars, snow-ball fights ensuing and kids tobogganing.

“Oh, please stop here,” I asked.

He kindly pulled off although refusing to get out himself as he was anxious about getting stuck in snow and not being able to get out. I hurried down the frozen road as best as one can when all is slippery with ice, carefully placing my feet.

Leaving the laughing families behind I was keen to get down to Lake Lyndon frozen in front of us. Before me stretched shades and tints of just one colour. Even the sky joined in the colour scheme with it’s thick cloud layer hiding that clear blue mountain sky from the scene.

As I left the dangerous looking Matagouri  and walked down into the tussock grasses I was rewarded with a flock of birds rising out of the snow and flying further down to the lake’s edge. Settling back down into their camouflaged hiding spots I moved forward, camera at the ready. Up they flew dotting the otherwise clear view of the lake. Again and again we repeated the dance until the tussock grass gave way to the lake shore.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Happily recording the wonder of this entry into the Southern Alps.

Aware that my darling dearest was waiting patiently for me in the car I put down the lens and, for a moment, focused my own lenses on the scene before me. Breathing in the beauty. Thanking Him for the opportunity to see such wonder.

I turned and began the journey back.

#grateful

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