Saturday, July 27, 2013
The call of the wild woods
The day before we left PA it was 95 degrees and humid. The air was a thick heavy blanket that pressed you on all sides the moment you stepped outside. When we arrived here on the lake the next day it was 72 degrees with a breeze off the lake that blew all memories of that past life far away to something like a dream. That alone would be worth the drive. But oh no, Moosehead has more to offer than that. A nearly empty lake on which to kayak, canoe and swim, endless mountains to hike, oodles of time to read great books, the freshest balsam scented air from the millions of trees that carpet the landscape like moss, wild blueberries that you can pick to your heart's content, and quiet stillness. Moosehead selflessly gives, and you receive rest for your soul.
And we still get one more week here. It's almost too good to be true. How lovely to have the most pressing thing on your mind being, what mountain should we hike next?