My husband grew up going to a family cabin in northern Wisconsin. So, we returned to Wisconsin to spend time at this place that is so dear to his heart. It is where so many memories were made for him. Fishing, frog catching, hunting, playing cards, boating, swimming all filled his days. Not growing up with such a place I have only a small understanding of how this formed him, and a large sense of jealousy. So I am always eager to join him here learning more about him and his family. It has been 7 years since we have stepped foot here. Years of talking about returning, about how great it would be to get back to the cabin, how we’d like to share this place with the kids. And we are finally here. It looks the same. New paint, but that’s about it. Even the fixings for s’mores are still in the same place. It’s so refreshing to be in a place where things have stayed the same. We join his grandparents and his brother and sister in law. Later this week, his sister and dad will also come up. Selfishly, we had hoped for some time here to ourselves, but are so glad now that it won’t be that way. This time spent with these people is precious.
Our 4 year old is getting quite used to being in his swimsuit, so he jumped right into it and hasn’t taken it off yet. The men have spent the afternoon fishing, it’s not great fishing, but it’s more about time spent together on the dock with reel in hand, talking, waiting, and taking in the place. It is a peaceful lake, small in size and no motors are allowed so the peace is maintained. After dinner, and once the kids were asleep, we headed out on the canoe for some fishing and evening air. A clear sky and calm water greeted us as we paddled across the lake looking for a fish to take our bait. It was a slow night of fishing, but a full evening of renewal. Paddling the canoe was like dipping the oars into liquid glass, so, not wanting to disturb it too much we slowly made our way. Loon Lake is the name of the lake we are on, and loons are what we saw. They are regal birds, pointy bills, dark heads and polka dot feathers, they glided toward us to see who was joining them this night. As we watched them, the sun set over the trees lighting up the clouds pink and orange and reflecting the light off the mirror pond. I wondered at how jittery I had felt to this point, and tried to let that all drip away into the water letting it be soaked up and left behind. I have never felt so much like a city girl. Used to the quickness of not only the tasks of life, but also the way we speak and interact, I found myself feeling loud and brash even in my silence. And in this I felt incomplete, halfway there to wholeness, lacking in something very important. There is a book out about children and nature, about the nature deficit in children and the resulting attention issues, the calmness they lack. While we focus on that in children, we forget that we as adults are also affected. We can miss a piece of life, the calm piece, if we are never outside. Filing our lives and beings with a go, go, go attitude, errands to run, and things to do, we can quite easily lose our sense of calm. So, last night we soaked it up, we tried to soak it up. To bring into our souls the peace, the wholeness offered simply by sitting in a canoe on a quiet lake with birds singing, frogs croaking, and trees standing.
More days of this to come, so if you don’t hear from me, I’m here, just being. And I hope you have a place to just be for a bit too.
Our 4 year old is getting quite used to being in his swimsuit, so he jumped right into it and hasn’t taken it off yet. The men have spent the afternoon fishing, it’s not great fishing, but it’s more about time spent together on the dock with reel in hand, talking, waiting, and taking in the place. It is a peaceful lake, small in size and no motors are allowed so the peace is maintained. After dinner, and once the kids were asleep, we headed out on the canoe for some fishing and evening air. A clear sky and calm water greeted us as we paddled across the lake looking for a fish to take our bait. It was a slow night of fishing, but a full evening of renewal. Paddling the canoe was like dipping the oars into liquid glass, so, not wanting to disturb it too much we slowly made our way. Loon Lake is the name of the lake we are on, and loons are what we saw. They are regal birds, pointy bills, dark heads and polka dot feathers, they glided toward us to see who was joining them this night. As we watched them, the sun set over the trees lighting up the clouds pink and orange and reflecting the light off the mirror pond. I wondered at how jittery I had felt to this point, and tried to let that all drip away into the water letting it be soaked up and left behind. I have never felt so much like a city girl. Used to the quickness of not only the tasks of life, but also the way we speak and interact, I found myself feeling loud and brash even in my silence. And in this I felt incomplete, halfway there to wholeness, lacking in something very important. There is a book out about children and nature, about the nature deficit in children and the resulting attention issues, the calmness they lack. While we focus on that in children, we forget that we as adults are also affected. We can miss a piece of life, the calm piece, if we are never outside. Filing our lives and beings with a go, go, go attitude, errands to run, and things to do, we can quite easily lose our sense of calm. So, last night we soaked it up, we tried to soak it up. To bring into our souls the peace, the wholeness offered simply by sitting in a canoe on a quiet lake with birds singing, frogs croaking, and trees standing.
More days of this to come, so if you don’t hear from me, I’m here, just being. And I hope you have a place to just be for a bit too.
It looks so peaceful and wonderful there. Maybe some day you can take us there. :)
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"I am here, just being." I like the way u expressed that Emily. It resonates within me.
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