Impromptu walk to the lake in the early morning. The water was as calm as could be, the ripples lapping on the shoreline not making a sound. A fine mist rising from the eastern end of Lake Leman as the sun and the currents greet one another. Sailboats moored in the little harbor created by the peninsula that defines Corsier Port. A couple of ducks, one moving steadily with the tide into shore, the other on the opposite side of the dock paddling determinedly against it. Bright red/pink tulips and other blossoms in planters along the narrow coast road. The always impressive backdrop of the Jura Mountains with trails through the treeline painted with late spring snow.
Our reverie eventually transitioned into signs of the rest of the world starting to awake ... a sleek powered yacht headed into the boatyard (not as large as the one D-L's dad built by hand in Massachusetts) ... then a couple of hardy swimmers in wetsuits, braving the chilly water. That was our cue to head home for a warm breakfast.