Days on the Lake

I stare at the lake and blink. Suddenly I'm 14 again, during the long summer days that we spent at the lake. Hours upon hours spent lounging on the beach, though there were so many we hardly took count. Oh how I wish I could get one day back.

Blink. I'm 10, awaiting my first night fishing trip. Sitting on the porch watching the sun set, the trip being the only thing on my mind. My hopes were high, my excitement spilling over. Little did I know just how boring that trip was to become.

Blink. I'm 8 again, sitting by my grandmother as we cross stitched the day away. We didn't talk, but rather listen to the sounds of the lake swarming around us. These were my favorite moments; the lake in its mysterious beauty, and us in our most natural forms.

Blink. I stare at the cottage, falling to shambles. The bathroom molding, the siding falling off, the porch con caving. And yet the memories come flooding back. The cottage was full for so many years, housing the memories from all the days by the lake. It has served its purpose; time to let it rest.