Adirondack weekend.

We received a providential offer to spend the weekend with some good friends at their cabin in the Adirondacks. It was like something out of an American movie – the log-cabin settled just at the edge of a glass-watered lake, ringed by timberland all in perfect fall paint. The lake was the centerpiece of our time – kayak and canoe trips to the little island in the middle of the lake; conversations on the dock, marinating in the abating warmth of the year; watching scarlet leaves float along the surface of the water – alms from the trees; and from every window – the lake, the lake. We heard stories of ice fishing and snowshoeing and hockey in the winter and swimming contests in the summer. The cabin has been in the family for generations and is a central gathering place. The woods and water all seem to come together in this way too. There was no cell phone reception, which was reviving. I loved focusing on the girls and the leaves and the water.

We explored the woods. Romy was such a character – insisting on being barefoot on ground covered in pine needles, stones and pine cones. She would yo-yo from running ahead of us on the path to hollering and lifting her arms in the air – help! We found a makeshift park in the middle of the woods constructed from tree stumps and a 2x4 balance beam. Colette and Romy put on quite a show.

I sat with Colette for a full hour one afternoon and we talked about letters, rolling them around in our mouths, tapping them on our tongues and the roof of our mouths, Colette inspecting some for the first time. The hour felt long and pleasurable – the letters golden with the hue of the sun.