Once upon a time, there was the most magical place in the world…
…and it has always been called by one name.
Within those humble four letters are the jug-a-rums of bullfrogs, the ethereal calls of loons, the rocking chair waves that lap lap lap all night long. The squeak and then slam of a screen door. The scent of sweet fern. Ecstatic feet that don’t wear shoes and are greeted with every step by pine needles and moss. Pumping water by hand. Ginger ice cream. Wild strawberries. Snapping turtles. Pin cushion water weeds. A house that is a time machine to the 1930s. Mysterious sunken steam boats and an outboard motor all my own.
First order of business is to put out the dock. The second thing to do will be to jump into the welcoming wet arms of my glorious friend, screaming with bubbles under the water, “I’m here! I’ve missed you but I’m here!”
By the time you read this, we will be in Cape Cod, welcomed by Grandma and Papa Timmins, Aunts, Uncles and cousins cousins everywhere. Next we will be hopping in a car to make our way up to Maine. I can’t wait to introduce my daughter to this piece of land and shore, that my Grandfather bought for $1…
Bye lovers. See you when we get back, the week of August 13th.