On the coldest night of our Killarney yurt camping adventure, we took a little night hike to George Lake to try an idea we got from an article written by well-know Canadian outdoorsman Kevin Callan. As we walked through the forest from our yurt, we could hear the trees popping and cracking with the cold, joining the rhythmic crunch of snow under our boots. It was eerie to walk through the forest feeling completely alone in the park. There were no other campfires that night and if there was any light or movement from the neighbouring yurts, we didn’t see it.
When we got to the lake we walked on the water to a point farther than we would probably normally swim and lay down on our backs. We looked up at the stars and made a wish on the brightest one. We found the big dipper. After a few “shhhhh’s” directed at Emma, we lay in complete silence.
You do not know silence until you lie on a frozen lake in winter, away from everything except nature. And, in part, away from nature, too. No crickets. No tree leaves rustling in the wind. No laughter from evening campfires.
And then we felt it. A slight shift. And we heard it. A gurgle. And then we felt something different. A “bubble” seemed to move beneath our backs and the inches of ice that were safely holding us from the freezing lake water.
It was exactly what we had come to the lake to experience.