Three years ago, my mother sold her lake house on Lake Winnipesaukee. I had spent a chunk of every summer there for 35 years, and I took the loss hard. Perfect sunsets opposite our front door, wailing loons, the slosh slosh of a big lake’s water, grilling easy meals and making other or “parts” — simplicity and peace I counted on every year.
While I mourned and wallowed in memories of what had been lost, I failed to realize that just a mile up Gleason Falls Road I had a sweet little body of water named Loon Pond at my disposal. A visit from a… Continue reading
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