The most beautiful grouse

The most beautiful grouse Remember the morning when the two Trumpeter Swans left my lake just before sunrise? Well, I found myself alone in front of a mirror lake with a mist worthy of my greatest expectations and a sun that was rising in a few minutes. Imagine what was going on in my head. Everything was gathered together to make my dream images of this swan. And yet it was gone. I looked at a map where the swans might have flown away. A few miles away was a lake. A huge protected natural lake and the trip to get there was estimated to take about 40 minutes. I had nothing more to lose and I started this adventure towards the unknown. Through flooded paths and tortuous dirt roads, I stayed on the lookout for any encounter. It was early and it was an exceptional time to drive on logging roads. After about thirty minutes, I had only come across two fleeing grouse. It was then that in front of me, as if to prevent me from advancing, a female was in plumage and was parading around. The black feathers on her neck and the fully open tail gave her everything but the look of a usual grouse. And, the color of its feathers was the red shape of the species. But there was more, it was particularly special this female. I had never seen such a beautiful coat of feathers. Believe me, I've seen hundreds of grouse, maybe even thousands, and she was the most beautiful. I only had the chance to take five pictures of this beautiful bird before she became a simple grouse without extravagance. All this way led me to this beautiful find which is nevertheless of a disarming simplicity. I arrived at the lake and realized that my estimates were far from being good. It would have taken me at least three hours of kayaking to be able to reach the opposite shore. It was big, beautiful and still icy in places. The sandy and blond beaches contrasted with the blocks of pure ice that washed ashore. The air was fresh and good. It was a beautiful morning, the beginning of a promising day! I was thinking about living on the shores of this lake and every morning I would witness this silent, millennial spectacle.