my place

This is my place. Well, in fact--it's also my dad's place, my grandma's place and my great-grandfather's place. My dad has visited Convict Lake nearly every year since he wore diapers. I love seeing my dad see the lake for the first time. His eyes light up in a unique way. My eyes do the exact same thing.

I love Convict Lake. It was such a treat to introduce my girls to my place. Although they enjoyed fishing, they mostly loved splashing around in the lake while the rest of us attempted to fish. My dad was much kinder to the grandkids than he was to me and my siblings growing up. We couldn't make a peep without getting "the look." He'd always say, "The fish won't bite if they can see or hear you." It was frustrating to hear that time and time again as a child, but I do think my dad was right. We didn't get nearly as many bites what with the kids chucking large stones into the water and screaming at the top of their lungs. My dad just let them be kids and helped the rest of us cast out in other directions to avoid all the rocks.

I took over 450 pictures in six days. I am still trying to go through all the pictures. But here is the first batch:

{doesn't it just look magical at twighlight?}

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"Be kind and considerate with your criticism... It's just as hard to write a bad book as it is to write a good book." Malcolm Cowley