The gentle breeze mixes the smells of newly fallen pine straw and fresh fish as it blows across the otherwise still water. The faint sounds of crickets chirping and frogs croaking seem to provide the perfect background music for the evening as the sun begins to disappear behind the trees in the distance. Just as the sun slips out of sight, the ever-so-slight buzzing of a mosquito can be heard, but it isn't enough to make me retreat.
I'm not sure that I can pinpoint one particular thing that I love about the lake, because I have so many. I love the way that no one worries about the bugs but just accepts them as part of the territory. I love the way that everyone stops at the pier to say hello as if it were the corner store or waves in the distance like we are long lost family members, and I love that those people haven't showered in days... just like me. I love that there is no pretense, no expectation. I love that my children love it just as much as I do.
I have never been happier than to see them spending the week just being kids. They tubed, fished, knee boarded, and swam. They learned to ski, which I am so proud of them for. (Water skiing is another love of mine.) They collected bugs, snails, pine cones, moss, and all sorts of crazy things. There was rarely a moment during the week that they begged for tv, iphones, or dvds, even during the rainy days. They watched fireworks, rode the boat in the rain, and played in the mud.
I am so thankful to have had this little slice of heaven my entire life, and I am thankful that my children share my feelings and my experiences. The sun rises on another day at the glassy lake as I take in the gentle breeze full of the smells of fresh fish and newly fallen pine straw.
