Bass Lake

Shay spent a lot of his childhood on Bass Lake. His father lives in Fresno so it was common for him to take the boys to the Lake during the summer time. When we got to our cabin Skye and Chance told us a little about where we were and briefly mentioned that we were about ten minutes away from the lake itself. They said it wasn't much to see and decided to instead show us around Yosemite. While we drove to the park we passed the long winding roads next to the lake and I couldn't stop looking at the beautiful dark waters and colorful trees. Shay saw the glimmer in my eyes and when we had a free chance to go exploring ourselves he took me to the lake and shared his memories. 

The weather was enchanting. Fog was playing around the tree tops and the waters were dark and cold. No one was out on the docks and most houses were left abandoned until the summer time. For two antisocial nomads it was absolutely ideal. We stopped by the small grocery store and parked my yellow bug, with misting rain we wandered down to the docks and stood amongst all the terrain. It was beautiful. It was surreal and colorful and dark and as Shay reminisced, I was able to watch his stories unfold behind my camera lens. There's something very honest about gloomy weather, it holds you closer than the sun and forces you to feel. 

We stood on the dock for minutes that felt like hours and everything smelled green. It was like looking at a picture and if you closed your eyes for just a second you would be able to see the loud suntanned lake immersed with summer fever and youth. 

It was quiet but loud. 

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