rainy day walk on east harlow point road

I bought my first camera just three years ago, which is kind of funny because I tend to think of myself as being a pretty visual person. I did have a little Fisher Price type camera as a child, but of course that disappeared eons ago (I have vague recollections of it tumbling in slow motion off the end of a dock, whether in Idaho or Mohegan Lake or somewhere else I have no idea). And then in high school and college I just made various friends give me their doubles. And then I dated a boy for five years who harbored aspirations of photographic artistry, and I left all our picture-taking to him (and still have a box of photographs pilfered from his even larger box of photographs tucked away gathering dust in the black hole that is under-my-bed).

So in 34 years of spending all or part of most summers at the lake cabin in Idaho, I have never had any pictures of my own. It was an odd experience, walking to the end of the road and back with my trusty little Canon SD1000 tucked in a pocket out of the mist, looking at this old road, this road that felt like home, through new eyes, new lenses, with a new man who had never been there before. He seemed to like it, despite the rain, despite the cold, and this made me inexpressibly happy, even in the midst of a certain sadness that sometimes pervades the place.

from the front porch

















heading out


















































water closet
































stargazer lane: the end of the road







































skunk remnants
























Snyders' stairs
































almost home again
(Ernie Sword's old pump-house)











McNeil barn & beach & docks


















the family plot



















home sweet home