Abandoned Lime Kilns at Canoe Creek

“Since the invention of the kiss there have been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind. The End.” — The Princess Bride.

We'd had a great day on Monday up on the hill at Sandy Ridge, in a very nice, laid-back sort of way. Tuesday was supposed to be decent too, maybe not as sunny as Monday, but nice enough weather that we went right back out again.

My husband had a hankering for another go at the Eat 'n Park breakfast that we both enjoy, the super senior griddle smile, and so we went to Altoona and each of us got one. Alas, they were out of grilled stickies, so he got pancakes on the side and I got French toast.

The rest of the meal went like this: two eggs however you want them, three pieces of bacon or sausage, two pieces of toast, and whatever kind of potato strikes your fancy. (I recommend the tiny round potato cakes which are mighty fine indeed.)

We thought we might need a nap after all of that, but instead, we drove the car over to Canoe Creek State Park, where we parked it near the beach area, and walked all around. We've swum at Canoe Creek a few times in the last couple of years, but it isn't a place we go a lot. 

Last May, we visited the abandoned lime kilns for the first time, and also searched for spring wildflowers on several different trails. I never found the yellow lady's slippers that are rumored to bloom there, but one of these years, I promise, I will.

This time, we did a more general hike of Canoe Creek, including the lime kilns again, for they are such fun to photograph. Some of the story of what they are and what they were for and their history, I told in the story that went with my prior visit (see link above). You can find more of it here.

A loquacious kingfisher rat-a-tat-tatted his way through the sky above us, singing us the song of his people. It posed for me on a power line and I zoomed in to see its crazy hairdo and listen to more of its wild laughter. The kingfisher is one of the signs of a healthy ecosystem and I was happy to see and hear it there.

And then we walked over to a bench by the lake and contemplated the reflections, which were very fine. You may see a reflections shot I took from there in the extras, showing a bit of the boardwalk along the one edge of the lake, and some golden marshy grasses, and a duck blind.

I put my camera away and sat on the bench, and my husband joined me. "It's very peaceful here," I said. A minute later, I felt his arm go around my shoulders, and I leaned into him, so nice and snug. "Give me a kiss," he said. And I gave him a good long one. Finally, he pulled away: "Every kiss can't be a five-minute kiss!" he said, with a cheeky grin. And then we just sat together like that, my head on his shoulder, watching the water, enjoying the day.

And they lived happily ever after. . . .

Now, it's my custom to include a soundtrack song with my blips. I have two pictures, so let's have two songs for this day. First, I wanted a song about a lake, so here is Bob Seger with Fire Lake. Second, I wanted a song for the guy who was told by a little girl a very long time ago (no, it wasn't me) that he was the best kisser in the whole seventh grade! (She wasn't wrong.) Here are Daryl Hall and John Oates, with Kiss on My List.