I’ve always loved the lake. The family cottage on Lake Wisconsin was bought in 1958, long before I was even a glimmer in my parent’s eyes.
My first memories are swimming in the lake from morning until night. I can vividly remember the sun glistening off the waves and running down the pier to jump in the water – no diving allowed. Our water toys were tractor tire inner tubes that scorched the skin if they got too hot in the sun. The sand bottom was the perfect place to search for clams or arrowheads from Indians who lived on the land years before.
My connection with the lake really started to deepen when I was about 12. I would go to the cottage on Friday afternoons with Grandma after her ladies bridge game. I could hardly wait to jump in her little blue station wagon and drive the 30 miles north to the cottage. The level of excitement was always the same – I couldn’t wait to get there!
During that time, I established closer friendships with the other lake kids. We started to venture into the woods and ravine just up the road. It was at the top of the hill from the ravine that I found a special place. A place of solitude that overlooked the entire lake, where I could watch the currents and get lost in thought.
The memory takes me back to a place and time that I knew was special. Yet, I had no idea the lasting impact it would have on my life.
