Each year, I find myself taking photos that I hope will catch the visual essence of the sweetness of the season.
This year, of course, I've snapped any number of pictures of the farm, but really, summertime in the North Country?
It's about cottage life, boat-rides, and the Water (whichever body of water, it's always capitalized: The Lake, The River, The Beach).
For over a hundred years, my family has spent weekends or weeks or the whole season on the granite shores of the St. Lawrence River.
This year, of course, I've snapped any number of pictures of the farm, but really, summertime in the North Country?
It's about cottage life, boat-rides, and the Water (whichever body of water, it's always capitalized: The Lake, The River, The Beach).
For over a hundred years, my family has spent weekends or weeks or the whole season on the granite shores of the St. Lawrence River.
The scent of old life-preservers and clean seaweed.
Sleeping porches. The "whap" of a screen door pulled shut by a long spring.
Pine needles. Lichen.The lapping of water under the wooden dock.
And the inexorable march of Labor Day...
Sleeping porches. The "whap" of a screen door pulled shut by a long spring.
Pine needles. Lichen.The lapping of water under the wooden dock.
And the inexorable march of Labor Day...
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