The Lake

Summer is wrapping up here folks. Well kind of. Every year now it seems it stays hotter and hotter for longer which is very annoying and unsettling. I'm over the Midwest humidity though so if we could cool it on that I'll be good to go the rest of the year.

We've already started setting up for Fall in the house. Bats and spiders and ghosts on the walls. I love Fall. And Halloween. We just rewatched the first Practical Magic last night in prep to see #2 this weekend. So yeah, your guy is feeling pretty witchy right about now.

For the last few years Lacey and I have been going to a cabin up in Wisconsin with her family around Labor Day. It's one they used to go to as kids all the time growing up so it's been fun to be brought in to all of that history.

The weather up there was perfect this year. We spend most of our time outside running around like kids who just got out of school for the year. On the lake, on a trail, or on the beach. Barely on the phone. The cabin is old school and simple but that's what I like about it so much. The sun room has these big windows overlooking the lake. One of those views that never gets old. It's a great break from work and other responsibilities. The ideal way to cap off summer.

This is a short one but below I've got some more prose for you inspired by this year's trip to the cabin and the lake in general. Not sure if it's the final cut yet but is anything ever completely done and written? I sure don't know.

The Lake

Your dad and I were watching this butterfly float between his kayak and my paddle board. Fluttering dangerously close to but never touching the surface of the lake. Orange wings glowing in the sun. They thought about landing to rest on my toes a few times but never did completely. I would have welcomed it. The more the merrier doesn't always apply but in this case why not.

Just before the encounter with the butterfly we saw a painted turtle hanging out on top of a log. As they are known to do. We were on a rescue mission to retrieve a lost fishing pole from the night before. Our nephew paddled back to shore furiously to deliver a status report. Furiously as one can with little arms like his anyway. We pulled it off without a hitch.

There's something oddly satisfying about the sound it makes as the lily pads hit the underside of your watercraft. It's calming in a very particular way. If you coast through them at the right speed it's a special thing. Scratching parts of your brain you never knew were there. Without realizing it I start melting into the harmony of the ecosystem. Like I'm a part of this whole deal too. With the trees and the fish and the breeze. As if we're making something beautiful happen together. They're doing the bulk of the work sure but my name's still on the project somewhere.

As night sets the water looks like glass. Dark and still but alive. Staring out the window I can practically feel its heartbeat.

Love is a great big lake
Love is heavy and deep
I am not afraid