Our objective is to present a rich reflection of cottage life and to deliver what matters most to our visitors: Stories, awe-inspiring photographs, articles of interest, ideas and tips. In the coming weeks and months we’ll provide you with information on current environmental issues, cottage care and water safety, but mostly on how to best enjoy your time at the lake.
We welcome contributions from lake dwellers, vacationers and nature lovers alike.
Think of all the censoring we do to survive an average day in the city— while stuck in traffic or crowded onto subway cars, in lineups at the store — all the jostling and negotiating with space and time; the work it takes to shut out the competing voices and noise, to ignore the stink of garbage and car fumes. It’s here, at the lake, that our senses come alive again. Alive to the call of the wild, the scented breeze, the beckoning waves, the cry of the loon, the distant chug of a motorboat.
My first exposure to cottage life was in a time before telephone lines and microwaves, where the rabbit ears on our black and white T.V. gave us two squiggly stations. Nothing to distract from the moment, to keep us from the great outdoors. Upon arrival, kids hit the lake running. Without a bathtub, every waking hour was spent in the water. It was a good tradeoff. As a one car family, and with Dad away working, we walked, we paddled, we stayed put. Nights were spent around the fire. And believe me, ghost stories told in bed are much scarier when you can’t see your hand in front of your face.
I consider it a privilege to call our lakelands home, and doubly so in that my line of work allows me, through our valued vacationers, the chance to re-live the joy of discovering this special place for the first time.
In the period of Covid-19, we speak with one voice. The yearning for freedom from fear and confinement is universal. Daily, I am asked, “When can we return to the lake?” In the days to come those questions will be answered. Anyone who has been to a lake knows that seclusion in cottage country doesn’t feel like self-isolation at all. It’s a soothing reprieve from the chaos of the urban world. Here is a natural order, one that permits reflection and a harmonious return to self. In all my years as both a seasonal and permanent resident of the lake, some things never change, and I take comfort in that. The waves still reach the shore, the owl and the osprey still call for a mate, the cedars and pine still offer their fragrant shade. Beyond a simple reverence of beauty is the vital relationship we have with nature. This is our shared heritage. The landscape we love nourishes the soul.
— Lea Harper
To contribute to the Kennisis Kourier, please query firstname.lastname@example.org and put the Kourier in the subject line