love letter to the lake...

The first night I am there, no matter how warm or cool, I grab the plaid lined Woolrich jacket from the living room closet and slide into memories. His Old Spice no longer lingers but I inhale deeply anyway. While my grandfather is long gone, his presence here is everywhere. Fishing poles, old tackle boxes, camp fishing records in homemade picture frames on the wall, maps, handmade tables, coffee mugs from my youth, an empty candy jar, dried mushroom fans with our name etched on it, and silver iced-tea spoons are a few of those things that remind me of Grampa. Life is simple at the lake with no TV or VCR but rather reading, swimming, playing games, and enjoying the incredible beauty that prevails in our special neck of the woods.

My grandfather loved the lake and passed that love along to me. We spent many summer mornings sitting on the front rock with a cup of coffee for him and cocoa for me, listening to the loons, feeding the fish, and watching the world wake up. We also spent more than a morning or two watching the sunrise and he would explain the science of how it all worked. How the sky was blue, why pink and orange were present, how clouds formed, and why the moon and stars were out sometimes when we woke up. This is how my love affair of sunrises began.

As a photographer, light is everything! And the lake has it in spades in that early morning light. While getting up at a ridiculous hour, especially when seems unnecessary silly, the payoff is completely worth it. For as slow as the pace is at the lake, light zigs and zags and moves quickly.

To me, it is the most blissful time. Loons swimming through a shimmering swath of gold as the sun pokes over the horizon and casts its glory down on the water. Fog swirling and dancing like Fred Astaire in the cove before enveloping the island. Water so calm that sometimes you catch the smile of the moon in its reflection before the sun outshines it.

First light behind the ridge, hidden but on display. A blue canvas. Hovering gray-purple clouds are painted with orange. Backlit in yellow and pink. Layers let light through, dancing across the water. Blink, and the moment is gone.

With everything going on in the world these days, I am forever grateful to have a place where I can immerse myself in the silence of a summer morning, the light of a new day, the wonderment of what is before my eyes, and what is to come next. Looking forward to carrying both old and new memories through another round of seasons until I return again and start anew.

Best of all, after all is said and done and I’ve captured the light, I sit with my cup of coffee in that plaid flannel shirt, and I watch the world wake up.