August Afternoon on Tahoe's West Shore
Drove down to the west shore for the afternoon and set up the chairs on the sand between the pines. Three sailboats were anchored just off the beach, and big thunderheads kept building over the mountains on the far side of the lake without ever coming our way. Somebody had stacked a driftwood fire ring near the waterline.
He waded out in his shorts to about knee depth — the water is clear enough there that you can count the rocks under your feet from the beach. Never went further than that. A bottle of Tejava and not much else to do, which was the point.
On the way back we stopped at the marina in Tahoe City. The slips were packed, everything covered up, one sailboat still out on the water past the breakwater. The clouds over the east shore had flattened out by then.