This time next week we'll be "up north," a phrase that was a meme long time before anyone anywhere ever thought of the word. We're not there yet, but I can't wait.
Thought I'd pleasure ya' (that's right out of A. B. Guthree) with some shots. Besides, I can't keep my mind off the trip. That one up there is from the first year, 2006, first time we tried going to a cabin. Loved it.
Once upon a time we dreamed about living "up north" after retirement, even asked about it when we were there, even looked at homes for sale--people move in and out a ton. There's no shortage.
Sometimes we hit color perfectly. Sometimes not. Sometime missed it altogether--too early or too late. But when we do, the harmony is magnificent. What happens to hardwoods is testimony.
It's may be a bit late for color this year. The grandest days show off their wares on a sliding scale, it seems. Some years there's none at all. We'll be blessed if we hit it nice, but even we miss fall's cavalcade of color altogther, even in dreariness, it's a joy to live on the water, to live in the trees.
I fancy myself a open country sort, a big sky guy, having lived here for all these years; but a trip "up north" reminds me somehow of my childhood. It's reminiscent of a landscape that remains dear to me, my lakeshore childhood, still a home--just another one.
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