One Moment In Time

The lake is my haven.  It's where I want my ashes spread after I am gone.  There is so much peace and tranquility to be found up at the cabin.  I love Little Bear because it's not busy like those other lakes.  We have our own stretch of private beach that extends quite a ways.  No sharing with anyone else.  No worrying about keeping our valuables looked after.  Our dock is perfect for jumping off the end into the cool waters.  When we're out on the water, if there's one other boat out there, it's "busy".

My parents have done an amazing job on the cabin itself.  Tens of thousands of hours worth of work have gone into creating a warm, inviting space that is cabin themed.  Wooden bears sit on swings in the sunroom or greet you as you walk down the rock-lined path to the lake.  Quilts with loons line the wall up the stairs.  A wooden Canada Goose with its wings outstretched is nestled in the corner of the loft, just waiting for a small child to pulls its string and make its wings flap.  Handmade quilts cover each of the seven beds.  At night, the two different walkways down to the lake are lit up with solar lights, making it look like a pathway for fairies or elves to follow through the woods.  Even the soap dispenser in the bathroom has a bear nestled on the side.  The decor is just one of the many aspects that invite you to have a calm, relaxing experience.

This past weekend, the cabin played host to my parents, my grandma, my brother and his four children as well as Katelyn, Andrew and myself.  There's plenty of space to relax and chill out without feeling cooped up.  The large deck over top of the garage finally has railing around it, so its' the perfect spot for the small kids to run around and play games while the parents sip beverages, without worrying about anyone going over the edge.

A moment that will stay with me forever was during one of the outings on the boat.  Isabella and Kale (two of my brother's children) were double kneeboarding.  In the boat were my dad, Katelyn, Andrew and my brother, Britt.  Neil Diamond was pumping through the speakers (a little "Sweet Caroline").  The wind was blowing just enough to keep the hot sun at bay.  As we would stop to wait for the kids to climb back onto the kneeboards after one of them had tumbled off, the waves were gently rocking the boat.  Andrew was peering over the edge, down into the depths of the dark blue waters, one of my hands firmly grasping his life jacket. Katelyn was perched in front of my dad, waiting for the signal from the kneeboarders so the boat could once again roar to life for another trip around the bay.  This moment repeated itself several times as the kids were having a blast trying to bump each other off their boards.

That's it.  That's the simple moment that I keep recalling from the weekend.  A tiny little snapshot but such a perfect moment where I felt nothing but peace (besides clinging to Andrew's life jacket so he didn't tumble over the edge and go for an impromptu swim).  I look forward to many more moments like this throughout the rest of the summer.  Here's hoping you each find your own perfect snapshot moments of peace and tranquility.

And so it goes...