The same stretch of Bowness Bay I photographed in the rain a few days earlier, and the lake looked like a different place. Morning sun, blue behind the fells, the wooden rowing boats laid out on the shingle with their red keels finally getting to show off.
Down at the waterline two swans and a Canada goose were working the shallows, unbothered, one of the passenger launches sitting off behind them. On a bright still morning the whole bay tidies itself into a postcard, which is either the appeal or the problem depending on your mood.
I kept both mornings, the wet and the fine, because together they say more about the place than either does alone.