We were talking about the stories behind these pictures. So what’s going on with this one?
Hmm… there’s no stunning story, here. Yet…
First of all, this is the top of the hill where the breeze comes out of the west (to the right in the picture) and blows the mosquitos mercifully back into the woods. You can see the evidence on the left side of the frame, where one of the big White Pines, barely present in the picture, is leaning to the left, leaning with the prevailing breezes. That tree has been there a very long time, and it clearly knows how to go with the flow as does the young one in the foreground — the one that looks like a tetherball pole. That young tree was a volunteer just a few years ago. You had to be careful not to trip over it in the dark. But um… you can see that my just-a-few-years-ago must indeed be quite a few years, because, well, that baby tree’s done grown up.
Secondly, how many years have we hung our towels on that line? Summer after summer, year after year, I have photographs that feature colorful arrays of towel-and-swimsuit hanging there on that cord strung between the trees. In fact, that left-most towel, has likely been featured in family photos going back two generations. It is a good towel, and it has kept me warm when the air was cool and the wind was… making the trees lean.
Thirdly, this is the edge of the wild. When we were very young, the backdrop here was a solid wall of green pine needles on young White Pines. But those trees have grown and their green needles are now up high, out of the frame of this picture. So unlike back then, today you can gaze into the woods and follow the path down to the swamp with your eye, the path that used to disappear into the young pines. Mimi used to warn us about that swamp. I remember her telling Stevie to tell us about it and about the quicksand down there. It was years before I ventured very far that way, and I was stunned to discover how beautiful it was.
And finally, the tent. This is our spot. Somehow Ben and Trudy and I have come to earn this particular spot as our own. (Although, Ben has long since graduated to a tent of his own that he pitches off to the left.) Year after year, summer after summer when the family pitches tents up here, even if we arrive late, it seems this spot is saved for us. I’m not sure how we got this honor, but I won’t complain, as the view out the tent windows to the west has much to offer. Well… it wasn’t always this tent. This is our second. The first was a huge REI dome tent that saw some pretty nasty summer storms in this spot. One year, the rains were so bad that everyone got wet and the wind was so fierce that some tents ended up in the woods… everyone except us, because that REI tent stayed put and didn’t leak. Indeed, the rains came down so torrentially that year that this particular spot had standing water several inches deep, and the tent was standing in it, and even then it was dry inside. Have you ever heard of such a thing!? It was a good tent, and when I look at this picture, I don’t see the blue tent you see here, but I see that white and yellow and blue REI dome tent that served us so well.