I just wanted to say how good it is to be back in Crosslake. As nice as the warmth of the desert was for the duration of the winter, I never stopped thinking about my homeland. I wish my health were such that I didn’t have to run away when winter raises its frozen head. I think back to the times when my dog and I used to walk across the icy lake, trudging through deep snow to get our exercise. When it felt good to see your breath and have a little frost in your mustache. Those quiet days we spent in the fish house, waiting patiently for a Northern Pike to come in and hit that decoy. My little stove crackling and my dog lying on the floor watching with me, and how his tail would start thumping on the floor, when often he spotted the fish before I did. We would take walks in the woods after a fresh snowfall and it was a scene right out of Currier and Ives. It was so clean and so fresh and so quiet you hated to walk on it because your tracks would spoil it. I have lot of adjectives in my vocabulary, but right now none-- which would describe what I am trying to say.
Its not just the land that you leave behind when you depart, it’s the people, the town and the family and yes a whole way of life that you have lived all of your life. I am sure I speak for Pat too who was happy to be back in her home. Even Molly, who crawled in the back of the car dejected when our long journey back began, seemed to explode back to life when we turned that last corner.
I walked around the back yard this morning looking for signs of life and there was the rhubarb poking through. Some flowers, close to the house, poking out of the mulch, not even waiting to be uncovered. The lake is all gray and I know that ice out isn’t far away. Soon Andrea will be back next-door and we’ll sit on the back porch and talk away the afternoons. Two kindred neighbors with so much in common and so many memories of years gone by with the people we loved that won’t be back but are not forgotten. Even if it’s an adage “absence does make the heart grow fonder.”
There will be a long litany of firsts, just like there is every spring. The first loons to come back and the first fawns to walk in the yard. Apple blossoms and spring flowers everywhere. Before long it will be concerts in the park and campfires with the grandkids and great grandkids. Sometimes our conversations just live in the moment and sometimes we are seduced by memories. Pontoon rides around the lakes with Marv. Dinners on Horseshoe Lake, with Pat and the Graham family. Meat raffles, weddings, family reunions and coffee with the sunshine boys. Walks down the road with Molly; people stopping to say hi and welcome back. Talks with my church family that I missed so much. Yes, it’s life the way it was meant to be lived.
Then alas a time will come when the north wind will get cold again and the leaves will fall and it will be time to do that winter hiatus all over again. Arizona will be calling once more, but to put it into perspective, for me to say I will miss it as much as I miss Crosslake would be creating a false persona indeed. But for now we’ll keep all that on the back burner where it belongs-- because summer is coming back to the lakes and this is exactly where I know I was meant to be.
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