We take this drive every August. Miles of dirt road that leave a memory of dust clouds. Scraping tree limbs on my window as we enter a canopy of birch and pine. The final stretch, a grassy two track and then the glittering veil. We park. We sigh. The quiet lake in the middle of the woods with wind songs for entertainment and wildlife for companions. We listen, look and long.
calling our ears in your direction.
We see your wake
as the water sighs.
Once black and still
now rippling with sparkle
as the sun melts into night.
I didn’t get to post yesterday, but I found humor in moments of my day. We went into town and for some reason I took my children out of their bathing suits and put them into clothing. Is this my first rodeo…no, I know better. Even when you go into town, there is likely water nearby and you will find yourself toe dipping. This turns into wading. Then one big wave comes along and from eye brow to ankle you’re soaked. From there nothing is off limits. Sandcastles are started, swimming fully clothed ensues and you just wish you all had your bathing suit and a towel…and a lemonade (or in my case an ice tea)…and probably something else, like a sandwich. However, this just proves that you don’t really need anything to make a memory.