At the lake

It was a windy day, with the sun out and the rains happily blessing places somewhere else.  They tell me Lake Caliraya is a man-made lake, and, being inept at both geology and engineering I could only gulp amazement.  We noticed the soil was moist and rich, keeping with the story that the Americans dammed an existing river somewhere in the area and allowed the water - and the seeded fish population - to flourish.

Run by very hospitable people and a happily energetic dog (that grew larger than its city-dwelling brothers), the resort in which our party stayed sits atop a slope spotted with a curious mix of trees.  There were cypresses, and pine trees - the kind which grow in Baguio, and a host of other trees I cannot identify.  Some of them are flowering, even - what I thought was an overfed giant of a beetle turned out to be a bumblebee enjoying blooms, or perhaps terrorizing small birds.   

The resort also offered water sports activities and extremely scrumptious food, and I think most of us left with a bit more poundage than when we arrived.  

It was a restful weekend.  I learned how to kayak some, and paddle board some, and handle a fishing rod without really whacking anybody in the face with a rubber worm.   No fish bit, though we were happy.