I didn’t care, though. It could have been 100 degrees below zero. I knew already that I was where I belonged.
Mikey let me go up the steps first, and when I walked around the deck to the back of the house, I was left speechless by the view. There, in front of me, was a clear cut of evergreens, oaks, and elms, giving me a direct view of Chesapeake Bay.
The cabin itself – about 75 feet above the water with a good bit of shore between us along the cliff – reminds me of this painting by Monet. I think it’s called the Fisherman’s Cottage. I can only imagine how beautiful the colors must be in the spring and, of course, in the early autumn. Right now, even with the early-November browns spanning the tree line, it is nothing short of breathtaking.
I know. Such cheap words. Maybe I will see if
