September 7, 2015

The sleeping snake behind that rock over there is forcing me to stay in the screened porch at the cottage. I can’t even glance at the thing in case it slithers.

Being inside is OK. I watch puffy clouds of swarming mosquitos on the outside of the screens and tell myself it’s not an especially bad year for mosquitos, in spite of all the rain. But my mosquito bites do seem to be infected. And of course the remaining black flies are still feeding.

I’ve already given up swimming in the lake. Waiting for me under the dock is the-mother-of-all-snapping turtles. Years ago — (before refrigerators) — we left a string of fresh caught fish hanging over the dock into the water. By morning, only the chain remained. Turtles never forget. Did you know that? I live my cottage life as if all the turtles on our lake know our dock.