It seems to me that the sun shines brighter, the breeze blows sweeter and the memories hold tighter on certain days of our lives.
This past Friday was one of those endearing, enduring days for me. It is far too rare anymore that I get to see both of my kids together, as they both are busy living happy, full lives.
For the four of us to get to spend an entire day together is pretty much out of the question. But, on this one great morning, all of the stars aligned just right and we climbed into Doug’s truck for a great day of fun.
Our friends in Apple Valley had invited us to come back and bring Cort and Caroline. What a perfect day it turned out to be!
Scott and Bonnie showed us the beautiful views from their boat, and as Scott worked his way in and out of various coves on the lake, Caroline and I began selecting which property would suit us best in our wonderful dream world. People waved from their docks; a big, beautiful Labrador jumped in for a swim just as we floated by; and we watched construction workers raising a new house lakeside.
Then, as if performing just for us, a speed boat went roaring by with an incredibly talented young man on skis doing jumps and flips for our entertainment.
As Scott quietly pulled the boat into a secluded cove, Cort noticed the tiniest little fawn hiding in the wooded area. Looking closer, it turned out to be twin fawns lying at the foot of a beech tree. Scott and Cort figured out the very best angle for an attempt at a photo, and Cort was able to capture those tiny twins on his camera.
When I was a kid, my parents were good friends with a couple who owned a little get-away cottage on Pleasant Hill Lake. It seemed like paradise to dairy farm kids who had never experienced a vacation, and we looked forward to those day trips.
On summer nights in our sweltering bedroom, my sisters and I often dreamed out loud of one day owning our own little place on a big lake. That, we all agreed, would be like owning our own little piece of heaven on earth.
Friday night, sitting around a bonfire back here on the farm, Caroline and I sounded like those four little girls of my childhood, dreaming big dreams with happy hearts.
Life-long friends surrounded us; kids who I have watched grow up right alongside my own children.
The night sky was vivid and bright. As I watched a shooting star, I recalled other August nights with many of these same kids in our back yard celebrating summer during the meteor shower, and making a wish on each shooting star; our last hurrah before school’s demands changed the freedom they enjoyed together.
“Make a wish, Caroline,” I said, as I made one of my own.
“I already have,” she said with a smile.