Today I went to the lake which is a mere 20 minute walk from my front door. The sun was beating down on my winter-white skin and I walked barefoot on hot concrete. My children paddled in the shallow area at the foot of the lake where the water runs in fresh from the mountain, and I sat on an old wooden bench sharing cheese sandwiches with my beautiful Labrador.
As I watched scores of people open picnic baskets, feed small children treats and throw sticks for panting dogs I wondered why it is that I don't sit there more often. I have become so accustomed to the mountains that surround my little village that I seem to take them for granted. But sometimes, just sometimes, the beauty of the place catches my breath and I feel blessed and undeserving.
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