Sky Lakes

In early September, MWS and I went backpacking in the Sky Lakes Wilderness in the southern part of the Cascades.  The wilderness is just south of Crater Lake, that lake of iconic blue water entrapped in a caldera that forms the focal point of the only National Park in Oregon.  Dozens of lakes dot the Sky Lakes Wilderness; they are concentrated in a few basins settled among higher peaks at an elevation of about 6000 feet.  Many of the lakes are very small and some had even dried to the point of becoming moist mud pots by the end of the summer.  The cold waters were islands of habitat for a fish, tadpoles, insects and a single colorful water snake, but these were the only residents that revealed their presence at the aquatic islands.  Forests, dominated by pines, generally grew right up to the lake margins.  The lake waters were clear, but a thick grey ooze covered the bottom. 

After the first night of camping, we hiked a ridge that gave a commanding view of one of the lake basins to the east.  In the warm midday sun we stopped on a bedrock outcrop next to the trail.  I was busy with the camera, trying to obtain landscape shots, concerned with framing and blown out skies and the like.  Here we sat and I meditated, in any sort of structured way, for the first time.  The meditation was a good experience, but the wilderness was sensory overload, challenging a focused concentration.  Sounds: the rough wooden croaking of a toad in a granite crack just below us; the quick snapping of grasshoppers unseen; insect buzzes close to my ears; wind through the trees like distant water moving.  Sights: a tuft of whitish grey cloud accompanying Mt. McLauglin to the south; living swarms of white dancing sun sparkles reflecting off the lake surfaces below; lava flows of dark grey rubble breaking up the forest carpet.  Smells: evergreen warmth; the rich perfume of the humus soil.