There’s a fire crackling away in the wood stove, which is filled with large chunks of wood, enough to last all night. Also burning are a few smaller pieces, carried in by Cameron, happy and proud to help, all rosy-cheeked from even a quick trip outside. The Christmas tree sparkles and shimmers in the corner, all warmly lit with golds, silvers, and twinkling colours. The whole house still smells like turkey from last night’s dinner (and tonight’s leftovers).
Outside, the trees creek occasionally in the cold wind, but otherwise are deep and quiet. Stars – thousands more than we ever see in the city – light up the sky. There’s a dusting of snow over everything, dry and creaky under boots. Best of all, the lake crackles and groans, sproings and snaps, as wind shifts still thickening ice.
Cameron is tucked into a warm bed, surrounded by pillows to prevent a midnight tumble to the floor. The evening was spent having a yummy supper of turkey leftovers and Christmas pudding (with hard sauce of course), reading stories to Cameron, relaxing with Mom and Bill. I’ve got the electric blanket turned on in my bed, and a good book waiting for me.
I love being at the Lake.