When the upper limb of the sun disappears below the horizon the brilliance of Mother Nature becomes apparent. On my left across the lake low-lying hills crawl upward across the horizon. In front of me covered by a few trees, is a lone secluded island. It looks as if it were a boat, attempting to escape to tranquil waters. On my right the hills gradually turn to mountains. A tall and slender Lodge Pole Pine minutely conceals them. Her finger-like branches delicately reach down toward the lake, trying to touch her own reflection. High above me, moisture laden clouds span out over the mountain tops, resembling a magenta colored quilt. In front of me, a broadening division in the clouds crests with a final effort to avoid succumbing to the shroud of night. The ever present island balances upon the waters, reflecting a perfect vision of it's unblemished counterpart. It is a mirrored understatement of nature's true beauty.