Almost a century ago, my grandfather and his father bought land in the southwestern Adirondacks, and built a summer cabin – a “camp” in local parlance. I’ve visited it for at least a few days every year of my life, and now co-own it with a dozen or so relatives.
Hubby and I spent a few days up at camp this past week. We had warm, sunny days, and quiet, chilly evenings; a pleasant break from the hot, humid, daily grind at home.
My favorite time of the day up there is the morning when the lake is quiet, before the winds kick up and the boats start crossing back and forth.
Before the sun climbs over the trees, there’s a mist on the lake.
In recent years, I had heard rumors that there were loons nearby. This year, I was able to confirm those rumors.
Once the sun is up high enough, the blue skies are reflected in the lake.
On the weekends, the lake gets busier as the day wears on, and the quiet, peaceful moments are gone by late morning. During the week, though, we can hold on to that quiet just a little longer.