However, one lucky man wakes up to views of the enigmatic landmark every day. His name is Dick Field and he is known as the unofficial keeper of Lake George.

As live-in caretaker for the last 12 years at Silver Wattle, a spiritual retreat perched on the lakes shores near Bungendore, its not surprising that Field has fallen captive to the spell of the lakes ever-changing moods.

Earlier this week, I caught up with Field, who despite the chill, resplendent in his work shirt, shorts and gaiters, greets me outside his office at the rural retreats main homestead.

From the moment I arrived at Silver Wattle back in 2006, I felt I like it was a calling, confesses the softly-spoken Field. Its something you cant explain, but this place and this lake just gets under your skin.

A grazing property in the mid-1800s, Silver Wattle is now a spiritual sanctuary for Quakers, and Field is responsible for managing the environmental conservation of the 1000-hectare mix of freehold and leasehold land which extends from the rocky escarpment which holds up the western horizon of the lake, right out to the middle of the dry lake bed.

From his eyrie overlooking much of the northern extent of the lake, Field also keeps a close eye out for any anti-social behaviour by trespassers on adjoining properties. Like people illegally driving on the lake, their tyre marks which can destroy fragile plants and which can stay in imprinted, like long streaks of graffiti, in the lake bed for years, he says.

Its normally a peaceful area, you can sense all the animals here are at peace, explains Field, whose gaze is regularly drawn to the ever-changing light.

The lake bed is like a giant theatre, Ive seen it all, from bright clear days to magnificent storm clouds, explains Field. You never get a bad sunset here.

The setting sun lights up clouds like fire and even when its clear, the subtle shades you get in the sky are mesmerising.

However, according to Field, its when night falls that the lake becomes especially enchanting.

The moon rise is truly spectacular, especially when it reflects off pools of water on the far side of the lake, and the stars are so sharp and clear because all the light pollution of Canberra is behind the hill.

Winter is a favourite time for Field who, before he starts work of a morning, sometimes climbs up the hill which rises abruptly behind the homestead, to watch the sunrise.

You look out over the top of the fog, and its like looking out over a huge inland sea, says Field.

Its quite ironic, really, because but for a couple of wet years, the lake has predominantly been dry for the last two decades.

But life at Silver Wattle isnt all sunrises and sunsets for Field, who toils away for most of his work day controlling weeds, including blackberry, serrated tussock and Patersons curse.

When I die Ill get buried in my work clothes and my tool box will go down the hole with me, because Ill probably have to come back and fill it in, muses Field who says, theres still so much work to do.

Field also has a deep appreciation for the Indigenous peoples which evidence suggests have been visiting the lake for millennia.

The land on which Silver Wattle sits has a sacred energy, says Field. Our connection with the land is nurtured not only through land care like weed control, but we also seek guidance from Indigenous elders who share how to care for country in practical and spiritual ways.

Keen to show me more of his patch, Field leads me past the shearing shed (recently converted into an artists workshop), through the orchard which features 150-year-old pear, cherry and walnut trees, and along a rutted track which runs parallel to the lakes currently dry shoreline.

Youre walking along the old stage coach road from Gunning to Bungendore, Field points out as I dodge piles of wombat and kangaroo droppings which litter the overgrown track.

Its also here where, away from the annoying hum of traffic you are subjected to if you stop along the Federal Highway rest areas, you can really appreciate the silence of the lake, one which is only broken by a couple of Superb fairy-wrens chattering in a nearby bush.

Weve recorded over 100 different species of birds here, reveals Field as next we pass a late 1800s squatters hut, cobbled together with sheets of iron and wooden poles, and barely still standing.

You expect old farm relics in a place like this, but what you dont expect to see is a moat.

Oh, thats fairly modern it was built only about 30 years ago when previous owners here ran a youth training centre, explains Field as we scramble up a steep slope of the currently dry moat to an island, about 80 metres in diameter.

Theyd bus down groups of street kids from Sydney and put them through a development course, says Field. The kids had to use ropes to get across to the island.

About a kilometre from the homestead, we reach the end of the Silver Wattle lease, marked by a crumbling chimney and rusting wood-fired stove, all that remains of an old stockmans hut, razed by fire in the late 1900s.

But more curiously, at the high water mark is a rectangular Besser-block shed. When the lake had lots of water, this was once used for storing rafting gear, says Field.

But prior to that it was a centre for catching tiger snakes.

They used to catch the snakes for their venom, this area still has a reputation for being one of the most snake-infested in Australia.

Phew. Im just glad its winter and with the shadows of the escarpment lengthening, we head back towards the homestead, this time taking the more direct route via the exposed lake bed.

In 1820, Governor Macquarie named the lake after our king at the time, over there on that hill, says Field, his weathered forefinger pointing beyond a long line of fence posts to a bump on the far side of the lake, now dwarfed by a line of wind turbines.

Further along is an arrangement of what at first glance appears to be concentric circles of small brick-sized stones partially embedded in the ground, but on closer inspection is a man-made labyrinth.

This was built one Easter a few years back by a church group staying here, explains Field.

Labyrinths date back thousands of years to the Palaeolithic times and are often associated with ancient pilgrimage routes, and unlike a maze, which contains dead-ends and can confuse, the labyrinth gently leads one unambiguously along a path of spiritual renewal, inner peace and harmony.

However, after an afternoon with Field, its clear he doesnt need to walk this, or any other labyrinth for that matter, for the opportunity to live and work on the shores of this ancient lake provide him with all the inner peace and harmony he needs.

Silver Wattle Quaker Centre: Established in 2008 as a place of contemplation, healing and renewal. Although operated by a Quaker group, Silver Wattle welcomes people from all traditions.

With 12 rooms able to sleep around 20 guests, Silver Wattle is also available for venue hire. 1063 Lake Road, Bungendore. More: www.silverwattle.org.au

Behind the lens: Dick Field isnt the only resident at Silver Wattle to be charmed by Lake George. Susan Clarke, a recent director at the centre, captured many stunning photographs of the lake, some of which feature in todays column (how dramatic is that rainbow shot!) and many of which are framed on the walls of the retreat. Clarke reports her inspiration came from the glorious landscape and the spiritual presence of the place and the work we were doing.

Did You Know? You can view the Silver Wattle labyrinth from most online aerial maps like Google Earth. Just type in these co-ordinates: -35.143969, 149.392723

Its all in a name: In a letter to Governor Macquarie on August 25, 1820, Charles Throsby was the first person to write down the Aboriginal name for Lake George, recording it as Weereewaa. Macquarie chose to disregard the traditional name, and instead named the lake after a boorish English king, George IV, lamented the prolific Canberra author, the late Graeme Barrow, who prior to his death publicly pushed for the name of Weereewaa to be restored. I wonder how long it will take for Barrows wish to be granted?

CONTACT TIM: Email: timtheyowieman@bigpond.com or Twitter: @TimYowie or write c/- The Canberra Times, 9 Pirie St, Fyshwick. You can see a selection of past columns online.

Clue: His and her in northern KNP.
Degree of difficulty: Hard.

Last week: Congratulations to June McCluskey of Latham who was the first reader to correctly identify last weeks photo as a circa-1960 image of Strathnairn Homestead, Holt. McCluskey just beat Jan McRae of Harrison, Sue Birch-Marston of Curtin and Barbara Gardiner of Belconnen, who has painted there for many years, to the prize.
Gail Tregear of Red Hill reports the exhibition, Clay Stories: Contemporary Indigenous Ceramics from Remote Australiacurrently on show at Strathnairn is definitely worth the drive. For the uninitiated, Strathnairn Arts is at 90 Stockdill Drive, Holt, and the gallery is open Thursday to Sunday, 10am4pm.

How to enter: Email your guess along with your name and address to timtheyowieman@bigpond.com. The first email sent after 10am, Saturday 23 June, 2018 will win a double pass to Dendy.