Most Saturdays, and many of the other days, our family worked hard in the morning and then hurried to get ready to go sailing.
I loved it. I loved the quiet of the boat, the wind blowing on my face and whipping my hair around, and the brisk communication required to keep the boat upright and moving forward. I loved the windless days when we would soak up the warm summer rays on the bow of the boat, then jump in the middle of the lake to cool our scalding skin. I loved when we were all tucked in the very cozy cabin playing cards and telling stories. I loved when everyone else was inside the cabin and Dad and I were the only two maning the ship, rain and storm be darned!
On the way to the lake, there was one particular vista that captured my fancy, so to speak. The field was well tended, the forest was thick and inviting, the backdrop mountain was commanding without being so domineering that the sky was crowded out. I looked forward to spying that place during our regular drives to the boat. I imagined what kind of house might be tucked into the edges of the trees.
This is that spot.
I drive by it nearly every day and love it now just as I did then. As a child, I had not developed my sense of direction or place in space. I didn't know where this spot was, so you can imagine my delight and surprise when I discovered it to be only a couple of roads down from my new home.
Coincidence? I think not.
I live in a beautiful, prepared place!