Our Lake – Fishing, Swimming, Paddling, and More Right on Our Doorstep

Having the privilege of a small, excellent fishing spot just 200 meters from your own front door is incredibly special. But keeping the uniqueness of this situation constantly in mind can be difficult. As creatures of habit, we tend to get used to everything, and what is special often fades during a relentless process of normalization. This text also serves to help me re-evaluate and, above all, appreciate this unlikely situation of living as an angler with a view of my—literally—home waters.

The Water

This small lake is typical for our region: nutrient-rich and relatively dark. Reeds line the entire shore, making it almost impossible to reach the edge of the reed belt—where the open water begins—without getting your feet wet. In the other direction, the forest starts right behind the reeds. From the lake, it looks like a dense, impenetrable wall, barely interrupted in two places by an inlet and an outlet. A hidden, cool gem, nestled deep in the woods.

The lake is home to dozens of animal and plant species and is a fascinating, functioning ecosystem in its own right—with one (or more?) beavers as the main attraction. There is also a rich world of insects, birds, all kinds of aquatic creatures, grass snakes, and, of course, fish. These are sometimes found in abundance and are often easy to spot due to their activity on the water’s surface.

Our home lake – a small forest lake typical of the region with a great fish population.

Fishing

The fishing here isn’t comparable to what you usually find in Western or Central Europe. Depending on where you live, you might only have access to some pretty poor fishing spots. I remember this from my own tough years as a young angler: every perch was a success, every pike a huge, rare event, and catching a zander was like winning the Champions League.

At a nutrient-rich and hardly fished lake like this one (it’s private, meaning no fishing permits are sold), the situation is fundamentally different. Even here, you might row back after two hours without any fish contact. But usually, something is biting. And often it’s exactly what I’m after: a 40+ cm perch. My problem is that I have sea trout spots and an excellent salmon river nearby. So the lake doesn’t see me that often—and the perch have time to grow.

Of course, not all the fish you catch here are remarkably large—but beautiful moments create their own value, regardless of the size of the catch.

Swimming

Considering the size of the lake and the number of swimmers (90% of the time it’s a group of maybe 10 people, all living in the neighborhood), our swimming dock is massive. We have a great wooden pier with several floating platforms attached, as if we were expecting hordes of children on hot fishing days. At least our kids love jumping into the water, even if they risk the sight of old men’s bodies in all their glory: the small neighborhood wood-fired sauna at the swimming area also attracts local Swedes for regular use.

The easy summer life by the water – a relaxed chat between uncle and nephew

Boating

Using small watercraft is always like diving into another world. Pushing off from the dock and then gliding almost at water level, completely changing your perspective, is always a meditative moment. It doesn’t matter if you’re sitting in an old, weathered fishing boat like ours, a dented aluminum canoe, or a state-of-the-art sea kayak. A quick trip across the lake is a wonderful short escape from life on land, and you don’t even need a fishing rod in your hand to fully enjoy it. Approaching a reed belt and its wildlife from the water or exploring a beaver lodge are experiences that, despite their simplicity, are always fantastic.

Rowing along the edge of the reeds, perhaps with a lure in tow, is absolutely relaxing.

Lingering

Bodies of water have always attracted people and significantly shaped civilized areas. In my opinion, cities without a defining body of water are simply missing something. Cologne without the Rhine? Hamburg without the Alster? Frankfurt without the Main? Hard to imagine. Maybe that’s why Stuttgart never really became my city (yes, the Neckar…).

Having a lake with a dock and a solid bench right outside your door is an incredible luxury. We visit the spot as a family for small picnics; I like to sit here, let my gaze wander, and listen to nature. And we come here all the time, usually for no reason at all, just because we want to go “to the lake.”