Early morning on the lake

In the mountains, we stayed at an inn that was so old that the floors in the hallways were buckled and uneven, like the weird floors at a funhouse that make you feel silly when you walk. And the plumbing, added years after the inn was built, was sometimes suspect. But the big fireplace in the lobby, the comfy chairs and mulled cider that awaited us when we came in to sit near the fire, and the magnificent view of a mountain lake made any of those minor flaws seem inconsequential.

When I stay overnight somewhere, especially if I am on the water, I love to get up early in the morning to walk the shoreline. No one else was around at dawn as I walked past empty docks and cottages that have been closed for the winter. It was chilly -- I was wearing both a fleece and my winter coat -- and my sneakers were soon wet from the dew. A thick fog was draped across the mountains, muting the reds and oranges, a soft landscape that grew more brilliant as the sun rose.