"The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness." ― John Muir
I left my first husband in 1999 after an extremely difficult relationship that ended with me having a nervous breakdown. Believe it or not there is one thing that I miss about it: the trips to his family's cottage during the summer. The two and a half hour drive to get there was worth it; the place was on a large lake that was virtually untouched by the rampant "industrial cottagers" that had taken over other lakes in the vicinity and turned them into crowded, noisy extensions of suburbia.
One of my favourite things to do at least once a season was to make the trek to what the residents called the "Lost Lake". It had been created many years prior by beaver dams and had no name on any map that I looked at. Its outlet was a small stream that emptied at one end of a beach that, at the time, was only accessible by boat. A deer trail led into the woods from there, following the stream, which ended at the shore of the lake about a kilometer away.
The first time I saw the place I was captivated. It looked like an unexplored jewel of a lake nestled in the hills. Ducks congregated on the water and kingfishers gave their rattling calls as they dove to catch their meals. At the right time of the season one could see various types of native wildflowers. If one was quiet and very lucky one might even catch a glimpse of a deer or beaver.
I've felt fortunate that I've been able to see such magical places throughout my life, from my grandfather's remote fishing cabin to my aunt's restored farm house. Family trips have taken me from the lakes of Cape Breton Island to the mountains of British Columbia. So much beauty should be appreciated.
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