The lake is calling, the shiny waters of a lake laying deep and black and promising in a world full of trees and fields and meadows and dust and summer heat.
We came back from a walk and had endured a long strip of flea market, an endless row of toy cars, blind mirrors, rusty nails and other dear plunder the French wanted to get rid of. We were dusty, we were sweaty, and hungry, not to forget very thirsty, with sore feet from shuffling through the afternoon.
And then the lake, shining in the setting sun, with a little love island in its center, and some rowing boats strolling along its shores. With a beach in one corner where kids screamed and splashed and got lost in all their liquid pleasure.
I wanted it, this lake. But I did not want the splashing and the screaming, hence I entered the deep, black waters at another place nearby. My aim was to visit the love island, swim around it and come back refreshed and renewed after this hot day.
BUT WHAT WAS THAT???? The lake bite me, fiercely, in my right foot, right when I fell into a light crawl to cover some distance. It bite me, I swear.
Damn, this was not a deep lake, not at all. It was black, yes, from the volcanic ground (it is a crater), so you could not see anything. In particular, I had no idea that it was a shallow lake indeed, or one who tricked you into believing it was deep while it was no deeper than my knee once you had made 45 meters or so. Gosh, I hit my shin, and I panicked and turned back, leaving the love island alone for god’s sake.
And so they won, the ugly creatures in the deep black waters.
THIS is NOT the one – think of black, I said black…! I was too shocked to take a photo…
And I don’t know why I have chosen the featured image I have chosen…I did not… into the lake, I mean…
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