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CLOSING UP CAMP: A
WORD TO THE WARY (OR WEARY)
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Richard Smith's
submerged dock.
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Beds stripped, bedding washed, bagged
and ready for Spring. Refrigerators, freezers, food cabinets emptied
and washed. Dishes covered, floors swept, mothballs distributed.
Clothes…what to take home in case we travel this winter? Boats and
docks put away? |
| Wait…did you say boats
and docks? Let’s wait until after Labor Day. It’s usually so beautiful
in September. Did you do as we did…wait those few extra weeks until
rains(remnants of hurricanes) hit, made the lake level rise twenty feet
in a few days? Put on your LLBean boots, better yet full wet suits.
Tow the boats out against wind-swept waves. Raise those docks a little
higher…we might luck out. Oh, no. There they go, bouncing off stone
walls, floating down the lake. Who owns the one with blue barrels and a
ladder? |
Little boat swamped from
end-of-season rains |
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Mike Shapiro's docks days before
they were swept away from their perches |
It’s the end of October and we think
everything’s put to bed for the winter. Today we attempt to raise the
docks one last time so they won’t be crushed or swept away. Beach has
disappeared, lake’s in our basement and we look on in weary frustration
as the docks crash into the water, off their cement- block perches. The
water and air are cold…not more than 40 degrees and we are wet,
freezing.
Next year, Labor Day. |
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