Finally, the rain cleared and the clouds parted at sunset yesterday. We paddled around the lake, catching up to a mom and pop pair of eagles; one dipped and caught a fish bigger than any I'd caught since I'd been up at the lake in the cabin in the woods in northern Wisconsin. A yearly followed behind, begging for food that they probably didn't give him. "Find your own," mom yelled. No otters this year, but some loons dove under the silent canoe near a small island in the lake as the dull sunset burst into oranges, reds, and purples to match the changing leaves on the shoreline. You'll have to take my wife's description of the colors; I'm colorblind. A bat skillfully dipped near us to capture unnamed bugs hovering in the wake of our relatively warm bodies. Soon it was almost dark and the owls started. I do a good owl impression and had a lovely chat with a Bared (sp) owl until he realized I was also a boy. Fifteen minutes later, he had impassioned love with a cutie. They screamed like monkeys in a jungle. Then the stars revealed themselves slowly. The first one for a wish, and then they all clamored for attention. A few even fell to Earth, streaking across the sky. Finally, time to dock and for once, she didn't dump me into the cold water. "Make me a fire." She batted her eyes. I did. A glass of brandy later, she was out like a tired sled dog after the Iditarod. Some times you just have to wait out the bad to get to the good.