We're almost at the end of July. The spring flowers are gone, replaced by orange or yellow daylilies and black-eyed suzies. The lawn smells like dried grasses. We've had a couple of hot spells, with enough humidity to make my hair curly. It's time to go off to the mountains, time to hike shady trails, swim in a mountain lake, and paddle a canoe.
It will be just the two of us, for the next four days. My husband and I will be staying at an inn that was built in 1903, a sprawling structure with crooked floors and big windows that overlook a mountain lake. We'll sit in the wooden rocking chairs on the front porch, take out one of the canoes, or lie on the dock to listen to the water. We have plans to climb a mountain and to hike to a waterfall. We'll be back some time next week.