Every summer, since I was a chubby baby with white curls, we drove down here with the family. A place forever intertwined with summer, salty hair, board games and bare feet. By the water, far from all things digital, where silence was a constant.
The days spent outdoors, the hours flown by while hanging of the dock fishing for crabs, the number of times we watched our parents struggle to light the fireplace, the smiles for blueberries and milk…I lost count.
25 summers, 50 weeks we spent here.
Memories and moments to keep, and to be had.
Free is what I felt. A paradise is what I saw. And happiness is what I will always feel, when thinking of this very special place.