Lake Tahoe, California


We were the guests of Lynn Scott in the home founded by her grandparents at Lake Tahoe a hundred years ago. On the last day of our visit, Lynn invited us to spend time sitting at the lake’s edge. The sun drifted in and out of clouds, colorful ducks stopped by to beg for a snack, and time seemed to slow down as the water lapped against the shore. I felt the lake’s depth, reaching down a thousand feet. The size and impact of its beauty seemed to reduce me to a fragment. I sensed the lake’s past, a time before roads when steamships traced the lake from cove to port and earlier when Native Americans made the majestic lake their home.

It all seemed to fall through me without words, only feelings and images: the ancient history, rocks and trees, and the sandy beach, the result of everything that has come before, billions of years of change, culminating in that exact moment. My only thought, “And I’m here to witness it.”

If there’s a way to experience the creative force behind all this, it exists in nature. Nothing compares to communing with the natural world and opening our hearts and minds to its whispers. Of all the happenings we experienced at Lake Tahoe, the tranquil time sitting next to the lake, listening to the waves rolling in and out, left the most profound mark. It felt like a wake-up call to remember the beauty in the world and the importance of letting its influence wash over me.