Sleep sometimes eludes my daughter Maddi, so my wife bought her a sound machine.
I’ll never forget the first time I heard it. It was late at night, in winter. I went to kiss Maddi good night. As I walked into her room, the gentle sounds of water lapping against a shore stopped me in my tracks. I was instantly transported to another time, another place. Specifically, I found myself at a special lake house that my family escapes to every summer, tucked away amid the stately pines and rugged hardwoods of western Maine. Juxtaposed with the sight of my sleeping daughter, the moment almost brought tears to my eyes. That’s what lakes can do.
We all need an escape from today’s overly demanding world. From world politics to unstable fiscal realities, these are unpredictable, uncertain times. For a diversion, I point the family Subaru toward one of a handful of special lakes that dot New England.
Lakes have a magnetic pull on me. They are places where time, if only for a moment, or perhaps a little longer, can stand still. Youngsters might not recognize that elusive quality, but grown-ups can, perhaps because we understand just how fleeting those moments are. These are places where memories are nurtured, and eventually etched into granite.