Letters from the lake: Day one

Letters from summer camp being a tradition and all, I kept a small journal, the old fashioned paper kind, of our adventures on Indian Lake in the Adirondacks. It felt good to really write again; so much so that I just may do more of that and less of this for a while, at least until the afterglow wears off.

We packed quite a bit into just a few days, including a visit to the Adirondack Museum, Stone Bridge Caves, and a hike to an abandoned garnet mine. I'll be sharing photos as I get them organized and uploaded. Bear with me, though, as there are literally hundreds to sort out. You know how that is. And by the way, hubby took the lake view photo above. Kinda cool, huh?

Anyway. Here's page one.

Day One: Peaceful, Easy Feeling

Twelve hours on the road, and here we are, at last, ensconced in a rustic cabin in the North Country. Already the mind stills and heart beats slow and strong. The only sounds are the lapping of the water, wind riffling the leaves, and the occasional low call of a loon.

The place is all knotty pine, the furnishings a merry mix of Adirondack craftsman and Saturday yard sale. I feel a little guilty for having bedrooms and indoor plumbing. Tent campers from way back, we've always harbored a certain smug disdain for folks who call this camping. The guilt passes quickly as I note the little cloud of black flies buzzing around the outside of the screened porch.



The boat is in the water, the gear is stowed, the fridge is stocked, and the beds are made up. The only decision to be made now is whether to play Pictionary or Texas Hold'em before turning in.



Beautiful as it is, the light here is strange, mysterious and given to fading unexpectedly into shadow. As darkness wraps itself like a sleepy cat around our little cabin, the wind whispers of secrets and legends. Earlier, I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of something that looked like a little door in the side of a hill. Could that be? Tomorrow, I will climb up there and see what there is to see.