All good things come to an end, and so, too, has my time at the lake.
So, let's have a little music to listen to while celebrating the last of October. (Cue Nancy Wilson) Walk with me, as October goes.
During these postcards from the lake this month, we've seen beautiful color.
A charming garden center, getting ready to ease into a new season.
I was surprised to see intrepid waterboarders on my last walk.
And kayaks, as a family pulled in after a last paddle.
My favorite walking road turned, almost before my eyes, from green to gold.
Berries burst, filled with sunshine.
Fungi nestled around trees, sometimes looking like something else.
Even the swamp looked pretty.
Skies were a glorious blue (when they weren't cloudy and bringing rain).
You just had to stop and take a deep breath and take it all in.
My cousin's cottage -- what I call our ancestral home, as it was where my mom and her sisters spent their summers, and so did I till we bought our own place -- was nestled in its own haven of color.
Sometimes it was so quiet on my walk, all I could hear were my footsteps, rare birdsong, and the wind rustling through the trees.
Leaves fluttered gracefully to the ground, with some getting stuck in the branches of a tree. Surely a good wind will blow this one away, too.
It was a summer of ducks. I saw a sole merganser on my last day. Since I left, Rick has seen many coming daily to the beach.
There were chores...
...and wonderful dinners.
The early darkness meant that our dinners turned to candlelight occasions.
I will miss these splashes of color, dinners on the porch (with or without candlelight), my Duckles and Quackles and the Mergansers. I will miss walks along my path, watching the lake change color with each and every sunset and that feeling of sublime safety I had as I isolated without feeling isolated.
But it's time to say goodbye.
I'll miss you, Cottage. I'll miss you summer and fall.
Home. It's a good place to be. But it isn't quite the same.