One of my most cherished childhood memories is of playing endlessly outdoors at high summertime AFTER supper in Scotia, New York. Here at the Tip of the Mitt, the sun doesn't go down--at this time of year--until almost ten o'clock.. A couple of nights ago, my daughter and my grandsons took me out in their boat after dinner. It reminded me of the time their father took me through Crooked Lake down the Crooked River all the way out onto huge Burt Lake. He was less than a year away from his early death from cancer then. He wanted to show off his home country to me.
The air was quite warm and the water quite smooth. There was a hint of soft breeze. We had a nice chat with the woman tending the lock that maintains the depth of the Lake; we had to be back through the lock by nine or pay a fine, By the time I took this shot, we had finished our ice creams from the Dockside Deli and made it back through the lock with ten minutes to spare.The sun went down slowly , falling through the clouds and into the trees. I took a gazillion pictures . . .
I have been reading and enjoying your blog, pictures and poems for many months but don't often comment. I would like to introduce myself and tell you that my husband is also from Scotia (graduated in 1969). His mother was a librarian for many years and his brother works in the Scotia library now. My e-mail is beth.maddaus@gmail.com
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