
The last time I saw Boundary Lake was on August 1st, two weeks ago,
and it looked like this:

Now you would hardly know that a fire had ever existed.

It was windy as we canoed up the two lakes to get there.

(These are my two current wwoofers: Sarah in the stern, and Ann Katrin.)
At the portage it was hot and sunny.
There were still a few flowers in the meadows.
And the Pyramid Spiraea were announcing the end of summer.
Boundary Lake looked serene
But if you looked carefully, you could see a miasma of smoke beneath the ribbon of cloud.
You could smell it sometimes, too, like a whiff of brimstone from the netherworld.
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