Joining with Kate's tribe of #fmf writers over at Heading Home...
Just focus on "gift," set a timer for five and stream of consciousness.....go!
Foggy mist breathing and rolling toward shoreline as dawn awakens our corner of the world. Mauve and coral fingers reach from the east, brightening the morning. Illuminating the water lilies curving skyward, the majestic mountains.
The ever present, rythmic swell of cicadas. The sun dappled sandy beach. The towering old growth pines - they landmark our haven in the Adirondacks. And have, for decades.
By dusk , calm settles over the camp, kids’ giggles and splashes reigned in after a day of memory making. As day draws to a close, a regal Old Glory is carefully taken from flagpole up by route 9, where the constant swoosh of cars, the downshifting of trucks, wanes.
Shadows lengthen from our island in lake’s center, stretching to shore. Scattered lights pop on, spilling glowing yellow stripes across lake’s surface. Patterns dance and flow onto the sand. Campfires are spotted around lake’s perimeter. Flames shooting; sparks snapping.
Friendships form and cement. A few staccato laughs, but mainly hushed conversations over marshmallow roasting. All the while, the aroma of pine, cinder and promise weaves itself into our hair and sweathsirts, ending a perfect August day.
This day, this gift, this treasure.
Like so many in our past and so many to come. Yet unique and precious.
~ time's up~
Come join us for others' #fmf posts over at Kate's!
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Until next time,