Lake Rodney helluva life

Marcello could smell the water from a mile off and when he finally arrived at the shores of the lake, he was blown away by the overabundance of color painting the edges of the shores. Small songbirds bathed in the shallows, and the early morning sun was barely kissing the tops of the sycamores. A smile whisks across his face and he steps down from the earth of the woodland to the soft sand of the shore. All around him is life; buds of spring flowers, tiny urgent peeps of small baby birds, and even a mother doe and her fawn taking a drink on the far bank.

His meandering leads him to a stream that feeds into the lake and it's here where he dips his head to lap at the crystalline waters. He hums to himself as his parched throat is quenched and, after taking his fill, he finds a nice sunny spot to rest his tired paws and take in the beautiful scenery for a spell.