The Picnic Grounds

This beautiful log cabin is built on the site of "the picnic grounds." My mother used to take us here to remind us about our family history. We would walk under the massive pine trees, the wind whispering in the branches above, carpet of brown pine needles beneath our feet, and she would tell us stories. This was where they held the community picnic every summer; everyone brought their own basket filled with bread and jars of lemonade. This is where your grandfather and his brothers would swim, just off these rocks. This is the sheep dip, where they drove the herd into the lake to wash the wool before sheering.

We can't go there any more now that someone lives there, but I can paddle by and breath in history with the scent of the pines.