There is nothing so hard for me as buttoning up the cottage and saying goodbye until next spring. Fortunately, our last couple of days brought some sunshine and dry weather. It was a good time for that last walk or two, putting away the outdoor things and the porch. I even managed lunch on the porch once or twice (albeit dressed in layers!).
Mornings were foggy, one so much so that there was no point in photographing the pale gray void that blocked out even the slightest indication that on the other side of the lake there was anything but an endless tunnel of misty fog. High winds had tilted our lawn spokes into odd angles.
Evenings were cool, although we didn't have to use the fireplace as often as we thought we might.
Most days were windy. We aren't sure why these gulls were grouped en masse and flying about on one of the windiest days.
But it did make for quite the symphony of beauty.
A last walk showed remnants of summer blooms amongst the fall foliage.
The yellow flowers paused long enough for me to get a photo of them -- not in windy motion!
There were changing trees -- when Rick returns to finish closing, they will be brilliant.
The trees play their own rustling symphony, a potpourri of color, with the promise of more to come.
From the beach of my cousin's house I could look across the lake at its widest part. With the zoom, able to see the start of color on the hillside beyond. It reminds me of a bargello pattern I used to do frequently when I was needlepointing.
Rick and I walked to our favorite up-north restaurant, Bennethum's, for an end-of-summer happy hour. It's about a mile from the house and offers up wonderful appetizers and half-price wine. Who could resist.
We toasted the end of summer, our time at the lake.
Then we shared an order of the mussels and fresh bread.
It was a wonderful way to end our time together at the lake.
Lizzie, of course, never wants to go. We know all her hiding places now -- or most of them. This time, an easy catch! One of her favorite cozy spots is under the quit and comforter on our bed.
There were many good memories this summer -- some together, some apart, as Rick spent much of August on the bike in Canada. He's at the lake as I write this, enjoy a few days and then before returning home, turn off the water and lock down a few things we didn't get finished.
And I will return as well -- but not until the leaves have fluttered to the ground, the winter snow has fallen and melted, and the chartreuse greens of spring and early summer emerge.
Until then, I remember.