This was an exercise in a class writing books for children.
Tuttle Lake
All the familiar sensations came rushing back as I rounded the cottage and headed for the path that led to the lake. “Yes!†I thought as I squinted through the thick pine branches at the cloudless blue sky. “This is a perfect day.â€Â
The rough, pebble-infused concrete path pricked my bare feet as I started down to the lake so I stepped off into the cushiony pillow of rust colored pine needles hugging either side of the path. Sun light danced hodge-podge through the tall trees, creating a show of shimmering copper where ever it landed on the rusty colored surface.
The tropical scent of sun-tan lotion and tangy boat fuel wafted on the fresh lake breeze as I made my way down to the beach. I could hear the kids laughing and the distant calls of “Marco!â€Â….. “Polo!†Followed by excited squeals of laughter and screeching that promised a very fun day.
Soon the lake was in full view. Private piers jutted out at each twenty-five yard lot line. Many of them proudly displayed American flags and each one held its own variety of beach toys from water wings to Frisbees to water skis.
“Zzzzzzzt!!!---Zzzt-zzt-zzzzzzzz!†A lone jet-ski skittered and jumped and swerved on the water avoiding the much larger ski boats and their skiers.
A short distance down the beach a chocolate lab barked and bounced happily, waiting for his master to toss the Frisbee he was holding.
High waves foamed and cascaded at the shore with an inviting “Whooosh†that called to beach-goers of all ages.
The warm dry sand was the color of, well, sand. Not salty white ocean sand, but good, earthy, mid-western sand that turns from light, sparkling gold to rich caramel depending on the degree of wetness. My toes warmed instantly as I squished and buried my feet in the warm gold stuff.
At mid-afternoon the lake was alive with activity. A sparkling blue oval dotted with fast moving speed boats and lazy white sails. Kids were splashing around and playing various water games while parents lounged on the beach with fruity looking drinks and baskets of sandwiches. White gulls soared over head watching for unsuspecting fish or a dropped crust of bread. I was off to play!
Later on I headed back when the smells of charcoal, roasting corn and hamburgers and hot dogs filled the air. Dinner bells were clanging every few minutes and my tummy was grumbling.
I sat on the old wooden bench at the edge of the trees watching the lake grow quiet as people headed home for dinner. The sun was an orange fire ball, slowly descending among wispy clouds ranging from pale pink to red to deep purple. Soon it would disappear behind the dense green forest across the lake which was now silent and smooth as glass.
It had been a truly perfect day.
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