The only thing that compares to nights at the lake house in the country, are mornings at the lake house in the country. The sounds of nature reign over any other man made sound. The soft cries lure the soul and meditate the mind, restoring the body's natural GPS. I feel most alive and less alone. Air, water, and fire are all that are needed here. Air in the country is different, its smell and taste are pure. It heals, restores. The water from deep within the earth, feeds the lake and all its inhabitants showing off her natural beauty and mystery, intoxicating all within her view. It's cleansing, baptizing, and its cold bite, awakening. Fire on a cold, crisp night brings warmth and comfort. Its energy transforms and carries us to another place in time. Our beginning.

As a child, some of my favorite memories are times spent at the family cabin in the country. Where we'd share late evenings around a campfire under skies filled with tiny, bright-white lights. In the country, dark is dark. The glow from the campfire softly revealed faces around her but just enough. Faces listening and laughing at stories being told; stories and quiet conversations spaced with moments of meditative silence as the fire commanded our attention.