Weekend at Silver Bay

When I woke up Saturday morning, the sun was just coming over the mountains, lighting the lake with glints of silver. I unzipped my sleeping bag and pulled on some clothes. My women friends were still sleeping, scattered throughout the bedrooms of the lodge where we were gathered for our annual fall retreat. I always sleep on the floor in front of big stone fireplace, which means I get the best room to myself. I fall asleep in a room filled with moonlight and the soft glow that comes from red hot coals, and wake up to the dawn light shining through floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

I grabbed my camera and slipped out of the lodge for an early walk. The camps along the lake are mostly empty by October, the summer season long over. The wind pushed bright leaves about on little sandy beaches, and pine needles spread orange-brown across the tarps tied over boats and lawn furniture. Despite the sun, the wind was cold: I shoved my hands into the pocket of my hoodie and wished I had mittens.

A brisk walk in a cool wind was just what I needed. By the time I got back to the lodge, I was ready to make a cup of hot tea, build a fire, write in my journal, and start the day. My friends were waking up by then, wandering about sleepily with mugs of tea or plates of food. We've been friends long enough to tease each other about who snores and who needs a shower. I don't think I even combed my hair all weekend so I'm sure my hair was the wildest.

We fit as much as we could into the gorgeous fall day. We hiked a trail that followed the lake north. We ate bowls of hot soup. We walked down the YMCA property that has an outdoor labyrinth. And mostly, we talked. Sometimes in groups, sometimes in pairs, we talked and talked and talked, until by evening, we felt caught up on each other’s lives. The blues in the sky deepened into purple, and we gathered in the big room with the stone fireplace, relaxed in the way friends are when they have bared their souls to each other. LovesAnimals had set up her loom right in the midst of our circle of chairs, and we took turns at the loom, weaving yarns together while the fire crackled in the background.