Lucy
There is nothing so quiet as this place after the summer guests have gone. It’s my favorite time of year. The leaves are beginning to turn, and the air is crisp, but it’s not cold yet. The geese fly south in great dark vees that span the sky, and the lake is calm.
Matthew’s teenaged summer hires are working their last days, cleaning the cabins and closing down the kitchen. Right now he’s pulling the boats out so he can tow them to Olema for the winter. He’ll leave one for himself until the lake freezes. It’s the only season he has time to fish, and he’ll go out every morning. If he catches more than he needs, he’ll bring a couple of small ones by for me, cleaned and ready to fry.
Yesterday he brought in the old pontoon. A wooden platform mounted on oil drums, it’s been a summer fix
