My Lake Austin 'Adventure'

As I boarded the bus, I felt a little uncomfortable, and anxious as to what to expect. I haven’t really been the Christopher Columbus types, and I wasn't quite ready to start today. Let's face it, sitting in a bus with no idea as to where I’m headed is not really my ideal way of spending a winter afternoon.

Reading is a part of each of our lives, and a critical one at that. Each one of us enjoys a different atmosphere while scanning through a book, which can vary from a loud public place to a rather quiet and tranquil setting. I ventured to search for a space that would be more on the quiet side, but would still keep me aware of the fact that there are other people around, much like the Quiet Study Lounge in Jester – it’s quiet inside, but you can sometimes hear students talking or laughing right outside the glass doors. My search took me down to Lake Austin, a place that I hadn’t visited until today, and after two trips down here, I think I have finally found my open air ‘Quiet Study Lounge’.

Lake Austin is a hot spot for joggers and bike riders, and it took me a while to find the kind of ‘secluded’ place I was looking for. The bike trail has a lot of people moving about it for most part of the day. It pretty much ends near the UT Rowing Center, where it curves upward towards the main street. Right at the curve, there’s an area, the size of the Goldsmith Courtyard, covered with short grass and dominated by two large trees. There’s a small picnic table installed about forty to fifty feet from the trail, and this seemed like a place where a person like me would like to read. As I approached the table, I realized that I was encroaching upon someone else’s territory; a family of swans inhabited this area, and they made sounds at me as if asking me leave. I tried not to come in their way. Once I reached the table, something very interesting caught my eye. Right next to it there were stone stairs leading down to a small wooden dock. My eyes lit up and I thought to myself “This place is perfect!”

Now that I’ve seated myself comfortably on the dock, it feels great! The water looks so inviting with the sun reflecting on its surface, in spite of the fact that it’s rather cold. I can see lots of trees across the lake, with houses poking out through the dense vegetation. The view is ideal for the cover of an Austin travel brochure. Even this small dock has trees growing on either side. No wonder I didn’t see it from the trail! These trees, the stairs behind me, and the lake, give this space a sense of seclusion, precisely what I was looking for. It feels private, and yet public. Closed, and yet open. As I flip through the pages of the book, I can hear the whooshing of cars on the traffic bridge not too far from here. The high speed sound, in a strange way, makes this place feel even more calm and serene than it already is. The slight crunching sound of stone being crushed by the people moving at the trail is giving me a sense of security, that I’m not alone, though I really can’t see anyone from down here. It’s as if I’m part of their activity, part of the city’s vibrancy, and yet in a world of my own, shielded from the chaos and noise.

There are ducks playing in the water not too far from me, and the swans have now become quiet, or maybe they’ve moved. The only sign of human activity is a canoe on the lake, but it’s pretty far from here. I really don’t know what these folks were thinking when they decided to canoe in this cold. Then again, they’re probably thinking the same about me.