Lake Moraine is arguably one of the most spectacularly beautiful places I have ever beheld with my own two eyes. The lake itself is enormous, but backed by forests and mountains, its surroundings almost play an illusion on its true size and scale. Even with photos, it is difficult to get a grasp on its relative size.

My photos of the lake originate from three separate occasions to its shores on two different days, representing two mornings and one midday. We visited Lake Moraine briefly in the early morning towards the beginning of our stay in Banff. This first visit, in particular, was when I had Coleridge playing through my mind and the lake was glassy and still.

The other visits occurred in bookend fashion before and after a morning hike which originated at the lakeshore but took off in the opposite direction. Upon arrival, we walked the shores again before setting off on our hike. Upon our return to the trailhead, the lake had taken on an entirely different aspect, its color all the more saturated and vibrant (I would not have thought it possible!). We scrambled up some rocks and boulders at its far end for a birds-eye vantage point and it is these views of the lake which are forever instilled in my mind's eye.

While planning our trip, I had looked up kayak rentals at several locations in both Jasper and Banff, so we could make an informed decision as to where we chose to go kayaking. In the end, we chose Maligne Lake in Jasper, which boasted the most cost-effective rentals and equally beautiful scenery. On another visit, I would strongly consider having rented our kayaks (or more accurately, canoes, à la the above photo) at Lake Moraine, simply for the excuse to spend more time there.

These colors!!

I've been trying to figure out what causes the difference in lake color (besides mineral content/glacial silt) as the very same body of water looks entirely different just days apart. I suspect that it may be in part due to the cloud cover—in the photo above, you can see the overcast sky and I suspect the lake thus takes on more of the colors reflected in its immediate surroundings—in this case, green forests. In the two photos below, the skies are clear, lending more blue tones to the watery depths. I think the overall vibrancy is a result of the glacial runoff, but the sky seems to account for some extent of the color formula at play here.

On our first visit to Lake Moraine, these frequent glimpses through breaks in the trees never ceased to draw exclamations of awe from us—that and the barely ruffled reflections of the neighboring mountain peaks.

At the far end of the lake, water flowed into the lake from other sources which created small islands of trees and dry ground. From afar, we didn't even realize this was the lake's source, but closeup, individual trees and root formations were much more spread out. It was unlike anything I have ever seen and so much water rushed through at every moment.

Without seeing some of the earlier photos, I would be inclined to doubt the veracity of the two immediately above—they seem fake!?! But if you look closely at the bottom right of the photo directly above, you can catch the slightest glimpse of the lake's surface in motion. Lake Moraine—too beautiful to be real, and yet it is. <3

"Frost at Midnight," by Samuel Taylor Coleridge—one of my very favorite poems in all of life and literature. Life imitates art, or at least it did for me, at Lake Moraine, with these last two stanzas running through my mind, as I walked in awe 'round the perimeter of these glassy waters in Banff National Park, Alberta. The full text of the poem is below (via Poetry Foundation).

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Lake Louise is easily one the single-best-known part of Banff National Park, and rightly so—Lake Louise is beautiful (and it is also a UNESCO World Heritage Site!). Lake Louise is also the site in Banff of the renowned Fairmont Château (which, ironically I did not take any photos of—clearly I came for the natural beauty).

We planned many of our hikes and visits to popular spots for the non-peak hours—a highly recommended tactic for a July visit like ours. We visited Lake Louise on one of our first evenings in Banff—we figured, if it was crowded, we'd still have several days to make it back on a less busy occasion. We lucked out and the lakeside was quiet and serene. We sat on the boardwalk bordering the lakeshore and watched the clouds shift in color as the sun slowly sank behind the mountains. Down the way, a couple was having their wedding photos taken—pretty dreamy and not a half bad idea, if you ask me. And, to avoid traffic/causing a traffic jam, we snapped this photo at the Lake Louise sign (IT'S TRADITION) on our way out of town, before we stopped in Calgary to put Laura on her flight then-home to San Francisco.

I would love to go back to Lake Louise in the off-season (or in-between season, as I think winters are still a fairly popular season for the skiers of the Canadian Rockies) as one of my (very few) regrets of our trip was that we weren't able to spend more time at Lake Louise. The little time we did have there was perfect, in that we avoided hordes of tourists and got to revel in the quiet natural beauty; ultimately it was a judgment call we made while planning our time. I think it was the right call, but I hope to make it back sometime in the future!

I am especially grateful for our timing—the sunset was so striking with the cotton-candy-colored skies and the vivid reflection in the lake's cerulean surface.

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above: Laura was appalled (someone jokingly, but her reaction/expression is genuine) by the rock climbing mannequins at the Banff National Park Visitors Center. below: some signage that got some chuckles from us—left to right: a grizzly bear darting into traffic with quite the dramatic flair; a bizarre coupling of what seems like a woman's silhouette with a moose? as seen in a women's restroom somewhere in one of the parks; Angie mimicking the hilarity of the 80s signage at the Banff Visitors Center (which tracks 100% with the educational videos featuring these two characters that were playing throughout the scientific and informational displays about the park).

immediately above and below: Big Sky Country—Montana living up to its nickname.

above: bright sunny canola fields while driving through the Alberta prairie. below: a cute smiley face on a barn that we passed struck us as ~very Canadian.

If I hadn't seen Peyto Lake with my very own eyes, I would be hard-pressed to believe it was a real place on this earth. The opacity of the turquoise water is unbelievable. The hue comes from the glacial sediment and minerals deposited in the lake and glacial valley over eons. For the un-indoctrinated, you can tell a glacial valley by its distinctive U-shape, left behind as the glacier has moved. The photo above displays this typical U-shaped valley, most obviously visible at the right side of the frame. In the two photos that follow, you can spot where the toe of Peyto Glacier (greyish in color, in these photos) abuts the lake. Having grown up on the east coast, I am still so awestruck by glaciers—to see them in real life is astounding, particularly on such a massive scale.

One of the other most remarkable features of Peyto Lake was that the evergreens grew right down to the water line. You can see a tiny sliver of coast/edge, but the dense forest immediately adjoining the lake also made for striking scenery. These photos were taken from Bow Summit, a short trail near Peyto Lake that was higher than the lake itself and as such, afforded amazing views of the lake, glacier, mountains, and valley.

The distinctive shape of Peyto Lake brought to mind the silhouette of a wolf or similarly canine-like animal (do you see the 'ears' toward the top right?).

This last photo highlights in greater detail the chalky opacity of the water—as it peters out near the shore, the contrast is even more evident. Peyto Lake was one of my favorite spots we visited in Banff, along with Moraine Lake (post to come!) and Emerald Lake in Yoho National Park. Nature never ceases to amaze.