An hour at the lake

I am so glad to be sitting here at this moment.  I have been blessed with a treasured two days off and arrived here yesterday to spend some time with family.  

Hidden Lake is a therapeutic retreat hidden from the world, as beautiful as it is serene.  To get to the lake, I must cross the field.  The beaten down grass where I walk is hard enough but if I veer off, I notice that the ground is thick and moist.  The smell of the field is fresh and sweet and it relaxes me instantly. The field is not yet blooming with the wildflowers that will soon be everywhere waving its carpet of color like a ripple across the lake.  Many times I have picked the Black Eyed Susans that grow in abundance in the field and woven them together to make flower bracelets and crowns for both myself and the children.

A soft wind caresses my neck as the out-lying woods that surround this place close around me on the walk down the winding road through the field and into the woods as it tunnels to enter the lake.  Mirroring to me, the gates of Heaven, this is by far the closest thing on earth I will find near that sensation.  I am home.

The air is fragrant with pine and grass.  For some un-answerable reason, I feel it is important to turn down my cell phone here to maintain the silence and perfect cohesion with this outdoor temple.  Vegetation is all along the bank of the lake which will produce fruits such as blueberries, blackberries and raspberries later in the spring and into the summer months which can (and will) be picked to bake into goodies such as muffins and The Farm famous blueberry pie.  

Birds are flying making their presence known by beautiful songs; Squirrels are running abroad looking for acorns and such.  I await the return of the hummingbirds which hover consistently over the honeysuckle bushes and zoom in and out of the feeders along the front porch at the house up over the hill that I’ve descended from to get to the lake.  Woodpeckers are knocking out a tune in what feels like stereo surround sound.  A simple toss of some old crusty bread into the lake brings groups of fish giving their salutations to me.

Toward the shore, bullfrogs are croaking a tune as the daylight fades.  Looking above, the clouds are in a cumulus state.  Their formations can still be made into any number of animals, or shapes.  They drift by slowly on the wind like fond memories of days spent here with family and friends.

I come here for a variety of reasons at various times.  Sometimes to spend days and pass time with family and friends; sometimes to delight in watching the new generation of children take their own pleasure from this place.  Today, I am here for myself.  To be alone and dream with my eyes open admiring all that this place is.  I am here to listen to the wind, to breathe and feed myself with hope, forget my worries, troubles and fears, and to pray silently for those who mean the most to me. 

This oasis of comfort does pose a catch. The return to everyday life is waiting along the road on the other side of the field.