If you've visited my website before you might've seen photos from the lake. The Lake. My lake. The lake of my heart.
The place of my heart.

Anyway, you've never seen this picture before, it's taken September 2009 and there's a stupid story to it; we had this last-of-summer-party, me and my cousins and our families, and stayed up really late singing (very false) by the bonfire. Finally bedtime and I strolled back to my cottage at the lakeside for a final look of all the beauty. This man (in the picture) came with his boat, drove to the bay and started harvesting his fish nets.

I photographed him all along, but I thought I should have some

sence of descency so – and I was certain he'd spotted me and my clumsy wretching with the shoreside branches – I called out to him: "Just so you know, I'm photographing!".

Of course he ignored me. Didn't answer, never let out a sound. Only afterwards it occured to me that he probably thought I meant I was checking him out for something (fishing) illegally. That I called out to say I made proof. Which I didn't. Of course.

Although there aren't too many cottages around the lake, I still don't know who he is. Can't explain to him. Or thank him.