This lake has been a part of me for as long as I can remember. Its glassy surface has reflected many summers of my childhood, countless evenings spent watching the sun dip below the horizon, and now, on this warm, still night, the Milky Way in all its brilliance.

As I framed my shot, the night filled with sound: the bullfrogs croaked back and forth across the lake, their deep voices creating a rhythmic chorus, while owls occasionally chimed in with their haunting calls.

In the distance, a lone coyote howled—a lonely, wistful sound that echoed across the darkened landscape.

Then—CRACK! A beaver’s tail slapped the water, a stark reminder that I was not alone.

For a moment, everything fell silent, as if the night itself was holding its breath, then the wilderness resumed its symphony. In that moment, I felt the timeless magic of this place—forever a part of me.