The older I get the more my memories haunt me. Haunt me like a sweet, distant whisper. They envelope me and suddenly, I am living the memories all over again.
Lake Ada, Minnesota.
This picture says it all. No words. Peace.
My earliest memory of this place was as a very young child. The smell of my dad's tackle box, the feel of the orange life vest hugging around my neck, the water lapping on the boat, the loons echoing across the lake accompanied by the song of reeling in each cast. Marveling how my mom was so beautiful, and how she could clean a fish in seconds. Her beautiful blue eyes and smile, and her long fingers cutting ever so carefully. The rides down the long silver slide into the begging waters of Lake Ada which seemed to cry, "Come, play in me! I will wash your soul!" How I wish I could go back to those times. Simpler, easier, real. Now, thirty some odd years later, I pray our families can once again partake of a family vacation with such wonder, and memory branding detail.
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