Howl at the Moon: Act 2

Well, walking home on Sunday night, I noticed that the full moon would come on Monday night. True to form, I walked into the house and scared the bejabbers out of the 6 people sitting at the table by howling at the top of my lungs. I decided we should mark the occasion by having a fire.

"We should have a fire, guys!"
"Where?"
"The deck."
"Nah"
"The driveway?"
"Better..."
"Green Lake!"
"Awesome. I'll buy marshmallows, we'll load the sled with firewood. Who's in charge of paper and matches?"
"Ok, see you all here at 9 tomorrow."

So, in the space of 3 minutes we planned the excursion. Amazingly, almost the entire house turned up for the event, even though it involved a 1/2 mile trudge across a frozen Green Lake through the punchy snow.

We were worried about the legality of having an open fire on a protected lake, so we decided to venture to the far shore of the lake next to the train track. After some postholeing through the trees on the far side of the lake, we found a perfect spot. Enclosed on all sides by trees and invisible from the houses and road on the far shore, this small circle in the trees was picturesque.

The moon lit the scene bright as day, and we couldn't have asked for a prettier spot amongst the tree shadows cast across the snow. We sat for hours roasting marshmallows, sipping our drinks and chatting. Slowly, our numbers dwindled to a last 5 survivors who rounded out the night by burying the fire in the newly melted 3 foot hole in the snow. We picked up our trash (Leave No Trace) and then chased each other across the lake, tackling another person at any opportunity.

Lounging by the fire. Actually, I had to lie uncomfortably close to the fire so the light would illuminate my face. (The pictures never look as romantic with the flash on) So close, in fact, that I singed my eyelashes in the effort. It made them much more noticeable.

Manuel's handiwork--tying the sled to my roof rack.

Crossing Green Lake, firewood and marshmallows in tow.

The train cruised by. It reminded me of that children's book about the Christmas train that comes at night across the snow...can't remember the title.

The gang, living it up around our (exceptionally well-built) fire.