A
few days ago I got back from it being my turn in Waupaca. It is always a relief
to pull back in north—immediately the smells assault my nose, all good. It’s
always verdant smelling, piney, woodsy, very earthy, like you’re suddenly
immersed in a garden of earthly delights. When the wind is right and waves are
splashing below, the air also carries the scent of water. This immediately
evokes some primal sense of déjà vu, long past camping trips of youth at high
mountain lakes, my time at living by the ocean, so many times of being aboard
boats with water splashing against hulls. The sounds of the loons only add to
the enjoyment.
The
sunny calm mornings here are sheer joy and wonder. I always try and wander down
the boardwalk when it is morning’s calm, as it’s like a jewel to hold in one’s
palm for the spell of the moment. Usually it doesn’t take long for even a
slight wind to kick up across the water and many days become quite breezy. But
in those quietest moments I try and anchor and find myself and say my prayer to
this moment of being alive and being able to appreciate it all. Does the exact
spot where you live give you this? I dare say, I highly doubt it, as the truly
special places are so few and far between.
This has me
caught up in trying to weigh the forthcoming decisions of how to best use this
place. I’ve loved our property in Waupaca, but it’s on an ever-increasingly
busy highway with no cover, so I always feel as though I am in a fishbowl when
I’m in the yard. Here, as I may have explained, our 15 acres sits on a road
that only encompasses our property and the county boat ramp. The other 35 acres
contiguous to ours is used, with a pole barn at the highway, as storage and
hunting for its owner. He never intends to build there and even if he did, the
nearest buildable portion is quite aways and totally invisible to us. We are an
island onto ourselves and I am loving that! No one sees our every move, no one
can see us at all unless we are at bluff’s edge above the boardwalk waving to
the kayakers who pass below. It’s a unique feeling we haven’t had for 30 years
when we first moved to and developed our Bend acreage property and had no
neighbors. So, yes, this is truly my soul place; will it be enough to just have
it for half the year and then have to go away?
Last post I talked about the possibility of
having a tiny home and had decided where it could be perfectly placed. I’ve
decided that even if we were to build a small cabin, the choice of location is
my ideal—it features the best full on view of the lake (with selective felling
of some of the trees), and as importantly, it also would look down on the bog.
I like that idea as I’ve come to discover lots of life and changes that occur
in the vegetation there, the colors, the smells. The location could also allow
for a deck to be slightly cantilevered over the edge of the bluff, which I
really think would be spectacular.
The
concrete contractor took his time getting back with us so we’re hopeful he gets
it accomplished next week. Meanwhile, Marc labors at installing the posts in
hand-mixed concrete which will anchor the posts for the RV shed. He’s also got
one gate pole up and set.
You
can literally feel the change in the air lately; some days feel downright fall
like. We have one small maple in the bog which has been turning red for two
weeks. Some of the poplar tree leaves have turned yellow and begun dropping.
The forest floor green has become drier and yellower in spots. Some nights are
in the high 40’s. Summer is so short and swift here. We figure we will need to
empty out and close down and store the RV by mid-October to prevent water lines
from freezing, so time grows short. We hope to complete the gate, the garage shell
and the RV shed by then. Ah, to have the energy and agility of our youth—it
would be a snap, ha!
We’ll be
boating this holiday weekend so I hope to have pictures to follow! Have a nice
Labor Day.
