lac des trois freres - circa 1957

It is here I learned:

That a bee will sting if provoked.
That a garter snake sunning itself on rock is harmless.
That if I hide beneath the warm, green beach towel I can enjoy the soothing rock of the rowboat with Dad's every pull of the oars.
That a dragonfly and a blue bottle are of different species.
That mountain climbing does not involve crawling on hands and knees on top of the trees while silhouetted against the sky.
That one can have a picnic no matter what the weather.
That on a hot day the heat will permeate the carpet of pine needles that cushions my feet and will rise again to greet me with a warm, sweet aroma unmatched by any other.
That newly-mown dry grass is pokey on little bare feet.

That the buzz of cicadas heralds a sultry day and no matter how far and wide I search, I will never find that chainsaw bug.
That at nap time I can study the worn blinds darkening my window and imagine its pinprick holes are bright stars in a night sky.
That the inside of a canvas army surplus tent is hot in the sun.
That ice blocks won't melt when packed in sawdust during the wagon's delivery to replenish the ice-box.
That draught horses are big - and have poops to match.
That when helping Mum with the laundry I must never stick my hand in the ringer washer.
That Mad magazines are for reading in the hootnanny - but not for too long, as the smell will take over.
That the cuckoo bird in the clock behind the heavy log front door does not want to eat me.
That lightning comes in all shapes and sizes.
That a baby brother, who is still only at the crawling stage, is a good companion when exploring the outdoors.
That valuable flashlight batteries have a habit of rolling out of reach beneath the couch.
That fire can keep us warm as well as fed.
That even when I sleep in my parent's soft, downy bed I can still have unspeakable nightmares.
That I will never learn the secret of Stripe toothpaste.
That Pocahontas is always watching over me.
That a beautiful garden can be an overgrown riot of colour spilling out of control down the hillside.
That I can actually catch a fish with a stout stick, a piece of string and a bent pin.
That I have to be careful when stepping from the dock into the canoe.
That bushes can grow in the water.
That upon waking in the top bunk to not to sit up too quickly.
That my favourite portion of bacon is the rind.
That a potty in the bedroom at night is very handy and helps to avoid midnight treks down the dark path to the hootnanny.
That birds of all sorts will appear once the feeder has been refilled.
That my favourite flower is the tiger lily and geraniums smell funny.
That good neighbours come with a candy bowl.
That the comfiest chairs are the ones with the most pillows.
That woodpeckers can be quite annoying, especially when hammering for breakfast on the tin stovepipe.
That the cellar behind the old double doors is a fascinating and different world with its pleasant earthen aura.
That humming birds can fly backwards and up and down.
That on a misty morning when I skip a flat stone across the smooth surface of the lake the ripples will radiate forever.

Memories are what make up a lifetime...