Lake Mashu First Observatory Looking out over the lake made me want to take my time with my soft-serve, too

In late July, I looked out over Lake Mashu from the First Observatory. After the drive here, I meant to take a quick break. But the lake was so much bigger than I'd imagined that I couldn't think about what to do next. Even the soft-serve in my hand felt a little special against that view.

I took a bite of the mint soft-serve, inspired by the color of the lake. The cool, refreshing taste made me put a hand to my cheek without thinking. I almost said, "That's good," then looked back at the lake. I was amused at how my eyes kept darting between the two, trying to enjoy both the view and the soft-serve.

I gazed at the little island in the distance and the water stretching around it. With the island as a landmark, I felt I could get a better sense of how far the lake stretched. But the longer I looked, the less I cared about remembering every detail. It just felt good to be here.

Another bite, another look at the lake. I'd planned to snap a few photos and move on once I got here, but all the tension had slipped out of my shoulders. If my friend were here, she'd probably say, "You don't look like you're taking a break anymore. You look like you've found somewhere to settle in." Yeah, she'd be right. I probably do look that way.

I watched mist drift over the lake, and the view kept changing little by little. Even when I tried to take a photo, I found myself wanting to wait and see what the next moment would bring. Then I remembered the soft-serve in my hand and took another bite. What was meant to be a short break became one of those moments I kept thinking about long after I got home.

Even after I finished the soft-serve, I stayed a little longer to look at the lake. I'd come for the soft-serve, and I'd come for the view. Today, I was happy to be able to slow down and enjoy both. Whenever I see a photo of Lake Mashu, I think I'll remember that cool, refreshing first bite, too.