Peace on the lake.
There’s something about being on a lake that provides peace, tranquility and a whole lot more. I guess that’s why we travel to it every year. It’s a family tradition that started with us marrying into the family who had the cabin. We rented it for quite a few years then had the opportunity to buy the property. The rustic cabin eventually gave way to a new cabin, although it’s really a home complete with air conditioning and heat which the other one lacked — an updated tradition I hope will continue to be enjoyed by our family for many years to come.
Summer on the lake is always special, but with current conditions brought on by the virus, it brought extra solace to be there. It’s pretty easy to social distance on a lake.
Lake living almost forces me to tone down. I’m more attentive to nature what with herons and eagles soaring by, loons giving their lonely wail and little chipmunks ( we call them peeties) near your patio chair waiting for a handout of a peanut.
No doubt about it, I feel privileged to have this opportunity — to set aside the angst of the outside world and chill for just a bit. We have no internet access at the cabin so I didn’t do any blogging while I was there. So as I sat down to write this, having returned home earlier this week, I noticed that I had written some additional drafts that I hadn’t posted. Much to my surprise, it was one I had written the first time we’d been to the cabin. But I wasn’t in a tranquil mood. It was right after the killing of George Floyd. Our cabin is about three hours from Minneapolis, so in a way, I didn’t feel too removed. I was stunned, angry, worried about the circumstances. Protests were going on all over the country, even in Nebraska. And as I write this, they are still happening today. There is much unrest in our country right now. Where and when will it end? Compound that with the virus and I don’t know how much turmoil we can stand. Everyday seems to bring a new surge of something.
Summer on the lake is always special, but with current conditions brought on by the virus, it brought extra solace to be there. It’s pretty easy to social distance on a lake.
Lake living almost forces me to tone down. I’m more attentive to nature what with herons and eagles soaring by, loons giving their lonely wail and little chipmunks ( we call them peeties) near your patio chair waiting for a handout of a peanut.
No doubt about it, I feel privileged to have this opportunity — to set aside the angst of the outside world and chill for just a bit. We have no internet access at the cabin so I didn’t do any blogging while I was there. So as I sat down to write this, having returned home earlier this week, I noticed that I had written some additional drafts that I hadn’t posted. Much to my surprise, it was one I had written the first time we’d been to the cabin. But I wasn’t in a tranquil mood. It was right after the killing of George Floyd. Our cabin is about three hours from Minneapolis, so in a way, I didn’t feel too removed. I was stunned, angry, worried about the circumstances. Protests were going on all over the country, even in Nebraska. And as I write this, they are still happening today. There is much unrest in our country right now. Where and when will it end? Compound that with the virus and I don’t know how much turmoil we can stand. Everyday seems to bring a new surge of something.
