|This path leads up the berm of the dam to the roadway above, and the lake beyond.|
|Mist rises from the spillway, stained pink in the morning light.|
|The river is a morning fog machine.|
|Churning water in the spillway mouth.|
I walked down alongside the spillway and photographed it as it emptied into the Des Moines River. I could see the Des Moines skyline in the distance.
|Our happy little wheeled home at Bob Shetler Campground on Saylorville Lake, Iowa.|
The Birds Nearby, at Saylorville Lake
By Catt Foy
Bright yellow finches and flashy orange orioles
The distant tiny hammering of a woodpecker.
Strutting robins alertly seeking worms
The mingled songs of birds unseen
Cardinal and bluejay, a patriotic pair
In the distance, the cry of the crow.
Eagle and hawk keeping sky-watch
While a turkey vulture skulks about for breakfast.
Mr. Robin’s bright breast catches the dawning light
As he sings me his morning serenade.