It had been years since we'd been to camp in the wintertime. My parents' little cabin has no heat and no plumbing, and the dirt road that leads to the camp isn't plowed in the winter. Years ago, we used to sometimes hike in and build a fire to keep warm. One time, the whole bay was frozen and smooth: we could skate for miles. It's the closest I've ever come to flying.
On the 80th birthday celebration weekend, Sailor Boy offered to take us in his jeep, which has the ability to drive over snowdrifts and ice. I'd forgotten how different camp looked in the winter, how much bigger, really, without leaves on the trees. It seemed really odd to jump off the dock and walk across the frozen water.
My daughter walks out onto the bay.
2 comments:
Just like the house in rural Connecticut where I grew up. No indoor plumbing, no electricity, no heat except for fireplaces and cast iron stove. Dirt road. Plowed? Hah. The one time they tried, the snow plow got stuck and they never came down our road again.
I liked being snowed in. Wood from the woodpile was available through a snow tunnel from the back door to keep the fireplace going. Sometimes it was hard to get the hand pump going, but the well was deep enough that the water didn't freeze completely, and it was just a short jaunt downhill to the outhouse.
Not sure I'd want to live like that now (I'm spoiled)--I rejoice every time I can step into a hot shower (running water!)--but it was the way we lived then.
Thanks for reminding me.
The light in these photos is so eerie.
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