Kinds of Honey

Miss T. and I have found a new favorite spot.

It is a little lake not ten minutes from our house. A water-haven for the two of us water-lovers.

Dogs are allowed off-leash here with the Boulder County sight-and-voice command tags. T. and I have started coming several times a week so she can run and swim, and so I can sit on a rock out in the water and watch as the sun makes evening shadows. Listen as the wind and the trees talk. Smell the water and the weeds.

I like the mountains here, how blue they can get, the way the clouds contrast and camouflage with them.

There is a path around the lake, and trails that wander off for hiking, and all of them seem to have just these startling picture views of the mountains, the kind that make you feel like you’re looking at a book.

Letting my feet hang into the water, tromping around through the shallows, leaning against the trunk of a tree hanging out over the lake, this all is so familiar and good feeling. Everything about it reminds me of – of me and mine, I suppose. The things I’ve claimed as right, the things I love and want to keep as a part of my life and the person I am. The smallest of these things can matter. The habits, the patterns.

It is wonderful having a place like this. T. and I will come here, and summer will be full of the blessedness of common things.