Back Home

Guideboat in Early Morning Sun
Back

The snow had come at last, and he wasn't sad, but melancholy nonetheless. June seemed so distant with the leaves dropping silently from nearly frozen limbs. It had been an idyllic summer, not because of the weather, which had been only slightly better than average, but because he had been blessed with the opportunity to live most of it at the lake. Nearly four months where even seventy hour work weeks were tempered by serenity found only in close proximity to the water.

It was a much needed respite. And although blurred by excess, and largely spent in solitude, it had bestowed upon him a balance he had not known for many years. While he had not recaptured the pure innocence that leaves one spellbound in the face of a magnificent sunset, he had, in fact, rediscovered a quiet joy in nature's beauty. And with that, a much needed tranquility he hoped could be retained as he transitioned back to the 9 to 5 world.

The lake was not what it had been 35 years ago when his proud parents purchased their small piece of the America Dream. The camp was within walking distance of town. Three decades had witnessed its transformation from sleepy mountain hideaway to major tourist attraction.

He recalled that in the beginning there had been no phone.

To be continued...

Copyright © Earl Rogers 2000-2013. All rights reserved.
Back Home