Magician Lake

The smell of the shed, like gasoline, fresh cut grass, frozen fish and must.  The constant but gentle buzz of the bugs in the trees, like a cloud of soft sound.  Patches of grass under bare feet, stepping stones in the rough gravel drive.  Lying on the back of the pontoon boat and being put to sleep by the gentle bobbing as waves make their way to shore.  The glow of the late afternoon sun, the way it feels on my skin and the way it glitters and glints off the water in a dance, with a little laugh.  The white Polk house--my house in all my dreams.  With it's picture window overlooking the lake, it's rough wood and the weeping willow out front.

Magician Lake, my love, who I am, taking up such a large part of my soul.  A month ago, I was there, enjoying your smells, your sounds, your sights and I wish I still was.  I'll dream of you tonight.

Tyrol

Gemütlichkeit is: German-style breakfast (in the Alps)

24 hours in the Windy City

On the way back from Michigan a few weeks ago, my mom and I spent 24 hours in Chicago, one of my favorite cities.  We wanted to squeeze a lot into a little time, so we focused on enjoying the city instead of on shopping (hard for two girls to do).  My mom had been to Chicago last autumn and had discovered the best of the best for tourists there.  She had so many places she wanted to take me and things she wanted to do with me.  

The fruits of summer

Today felt good and oh so summerlike--German summerlike that is--and I was happy to have it.  It was cool and cloudy waking up, with the most perfect breeze coming in the window.  I worked in the morning and early afternoon and went I got off, the sun was shining and everyone was out enjoying it.  Nürnberg is full of tourists this time of year, but it is a nice little reminder that this is a special season.  

I meandered through the stalls of the farmer's market held every Saturday in Nürnberg's main market square.  There, surrounded by churches, an old book store and lots of sidewalk cafes, stalls with red and white striped canopies sell their summer harvest.  My mouth watered at all the fresh, local, perfectly ripe produce and gorgeous summer flowers.  There were beautiful green and burgundy heads of salad and cabbage, peaches so ripe you could smell their sweet juice, fresh mushrooms in white and brown and all colors of zucchini.  

I picked out just enough of my favorite things for me to enjoy on my own, which felt so indulgent and wonderfully selfish, and talked to the friendliest, most helpful people (rare in Germany and most definitely a sign of a good day). 

And, as if it wasn't enough for summer to gift me with this sweet bounty, just as I was leaving the market and took my first bite into a juicy peach, the heavens opened up and heavy summer raindrops began to fall.  With dark cloud overhead, it poured for about ten minutes and then just like that, as quickly as it began, the rain stopped, the clouds parted and left the summer sun to do its thing.

Farm fresh