Throughout the book I found myself inside a delicious memory I always wanted but never knew how to set up in my mind’s daydreams.
If you spend enough time inhaling and exhaling the lazy days of summer, you might find yourself gathering memories and souvenirs.
Or perhaps long walks in the woods gently pull your gaze toward towering trees that seem to dance with the wind one minute, then appear serious and solemn the next. If you have a little time to reflect, do you wonder if those trees have a life just begging to share with you? Are they telling you something?
Strolling along the beaches of summer, we all pick up a stone, a shell, something that is reminiscent of our time there…and eventually forgotten or replaced with something else when summer fades.
We step over a blanket of tiny, frothy pebbles, wade through tall, soft, swishy summer grasses, relish our connection to fathers and mothers of long ago and hear the waves ushering their white caps into the sandy shores.
This book takes one on a journey, opening our spirit to sacred-like possibilities. Reading page after page, I discovered that all things I loved during the summers at the lake took on a palatable and surprisingly tangible soul. Never did I “see” faces on all the stones along the shore. As the words began to divulge such insightful splendor, I began to believe in the faces, the spirits and beauty of each stone, the tree’s voices and the rushing waves that never let us down.
The author allowed my mind to dabble in the art of pondering and puttering. It makes me anxious to share all her notions with my children and their children. If the reader doesn’t have a cottage by the lake from which to relive memories, they do now.