One of the huge blessings of this house on the lake is that it is really ON the lake. I look outside my windows into the water. It’s a good 3 feet deep at it’s shallowest. Boats once came into the area that I now sit. And in this spot I can look out and see fish swimming in the water.

When Hunter, my second daughter, was an infant she would wake up early early. I recall sitting with her as the sun rose, looking out into the depths. Looking at the minnows, who, I imagined, were also just waking up.

When I go out into the woods these days – when I leave this waterfront house to stretch my legs – I encounter more people than ever before out on the trails nearby. People who last year might not have expected to be spending time hiking.

What are they seeing that they were not anticipating? What catches their attention now that they are not where they might normally be; perhaps indoors? on the computer? in a city?

They wander. Surrounded by green. Dappled sun filtering through trees. Wind in their hair. And, if they amble along the lake shore, maybe they catch the glint of fish nearby.

Or … leaves floating on the surface.

Green. Yellow.

And startling red.

This color – NOT to be missed.