It was a Norman Rockwell sort of day.
Adorable and happy kids happily embracing the next adventure, remembrance of a friend, bouncing and floating on busy lake water, adults enjoying kids and a whole lot of red, white and blue.
Nostalgia may not have been totally present at the time, but I'm confident that it will be with all the building of so many memories.
I attended a funeral in the morning. Then, Bill and I crashed the annual Fourth of July doings at the neighbors next door. Kids on bikes performed, and one young lady learned some basics about taking pictures.
Then, the kids in a homemade trailer with their trusty driver (a policeman, I was told several times by his kids) came to the Lovestead.
With Bill and me in our 4-wheeler leading, the group enjoyed a ride through the trails in our woods with a stop-off to meet and feed horses over the fence.
Actually, only CB came over to greet the group. CB lucked out because several young hands grabbed and pulled tall grass to feed CB. And, happily, no fingers were missing when they climbed back into their trailer.
Their visit was great fun for Bill and me, especially when we learned that one of the crew told her mom that she was going to come back to the Lovestead every year---even when she's 18.
That would be cool.
After the group left, we spent a few minutes sitting on the deck. Then, Bill wondered if I wanted to go kayaking.
We both agreed it would be an unknown for this year's maiden voyage because we both have our bad knees to contend with.
Deciding we might as well give it a try, off we went to the Trestle Creek picnic grounds.
Fortunately, for us, the knees didn't seem to care, even if choppy waves from the breeze and from the wakes of so many other boats in the area made getting into our kayaks a bit dicy and definitely wet.
We survived and paddled off into the lake. Later, Bill asked if I'd like to explore an old marina around the corner from the picnic ground and trailer park.
Once we entered the area, I could not help but think of scenes from "Where the Crawdads Sing."
No crawdads in this place but continuous melodies from birds and a definite haunting feeling resonating from the stillness, the shade from overhanging trees and shrubs, and a series old abandoned docks in total disrepair.
Floating through almost still water offered quite a change from the intense sunshine and busy boating activity on the lake outside and just around a corner.
It's a place most likely steeped with history of when it was thriving back in the day. For now, the area offers a hidden, peaceful escape in from the outer world of noisy busYness of holiday activity out there on the big lake.
As I look back on the whole day, my mind is filled with a myriad many lovely images of people and places and happenings.
We definitely packed it all in yesterday. Who knows what today will bring, 'cept maybe some heat.
Happy Sunday.
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