Summertime at Bell Lake

Introduction

Default Dyslexic Roboto Lora

There is nothing like the summer. The sweet sunlight that melts onto your skin and envelops you in a comforting embrace. The whippoorwills that chirp at dawn and the bullfrogs that croak at dusk, a natural clock for when youve lost yourself in the endless summer afternoons. The warm sand that crinkles underneath your wrinkly feet that disappear as the ocean waves rush ashore, burying your ankles within the coarse sandy grains. The lush forests, the dreamy stained-glass sunsets, the smell of fresh cut grass. The freedom. The healing. The beauty.

Its no wonder my summers at Bell lake were the most formative periods of my lifetime. I mean, summer quite literally is the time for growth: the trees grow taller and wider with emerald-colored leaves, the geese lay eggs and raise their goslings along with the humid months, the front lawn changes from a brown and brittle hay to a nourished and verdant green. Growth is beautiful – the result is, at least. The process, however, can at times be hideous. The same bushy emerald trees ooze a sticky sap

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