places in and of our hearts

Here is where I sat and drank my coffee every morning in the summer when my children were little. Off the beaten path, 
no internet, no cell service, and it felt like time melted away. We played cards for hours, stayed in our pajamas all day if we felt like it, and ate raspberries off of the bushes every morning. Years have passed since we spent expanses of time at the cottage, and this fall my youngest daughter is going off to college, not surprisingly, close to this place that we all love and hold so dear to us. 

She no longer draws pictures of turtles with crayons,  but continues feel the imprint of the lazy long days, the starry nights catching fireflies, staying up too late with the grown-ups, and most of all - her connection to place and family, and growing up here. 

On our college tour this past winter we drove to the cottage on a very cold and snowy day in January. There are changes. 
New shutters, a new front door - we commented, and looked at each other. These knowing looks, intimate and full of memories,
speak to the fullness and depth of our experiences here, and how we changed just by being together; then, and now.