I’ve bragged about this place before. Here. and here.
And I’m back to do it again. When I think of “summer” I think of this little house-where the sun rises early and lingers on the horizon until 10 pm. I think of blackberry pies, of acres and acres of wooded freedom, of watermelon, of melty ice cream cones, of the smell of firewood that stays in my clothes and hair for weeks after–my very favorite smell. All of these pieces collected and combining year after year as long as I can remember.
My heart aches now just looking at these pictures now. It my favorite place in the world, and it is magic.
