A start of a vacation

We have been driving for three hours into the near north - the rush and bright lights of the big cities left behind. We have even pushed passed the small cities and are now speeding passed the small towns that dot this part of the province. We cross creeks and rivers, trees, lakes, and rocks - all flying past us under a darkening sky. We have climbed up onto the rocky backbone that anchors this continent - the Canadian Shield. A great slab of rock that cradles thousands of deep cold lakes and somehow the few inches of dirt that clings to it sustains some of the worlds most beautiful forests. 

Good farmland is hard to find and the roads are littered with abandoned attempts where some tried and failed to eke out a living from scrubbed land. Fields, fences and foundations are left to be reclaimed by nature, turning to meadow and then young forest of birch and poplar and spruce. It is a beautiful and hard land and many have been drawn here to be crushed by it. This land cannot be forced to obey for long - it takes a different skill to live and thrive here.

With streetlights and the lights of towns behind us, the evening darkens to night quickly and now I can only see you by the glow from the dashboard. The hum of the tires and your warm hand in mine and knowing our destination is close make me smile. You draw a deep breath and sink into your seat, tuning a little. You are getting tired.

"We're almost there - it's on the next road" I say.

A minute later we turn off the paved road and feel the crunch of gravel beneath us. The headlights show only the narrow road ahead with tall dark trees on either side. Its like driving in a tunnel. The only hint of civilization is the rare mailbox and hint of a driveway into thick woods. Cresting a hill and seeing the mailbox I was looking for we leave the gravel road and drive up a winding and rutted dirt road. Branches scrape the sides of the car as you lean forward to look at our path. Fully awake now at the excitement that we are very close to our destination. One final hill and sharp turn when we are suddenly in a large open clearing bathed in moonlight - the treetops and cottage outlined in silver. The sound of the car now suddenly an intrusion and I shut it off as soon as I stop. 

"We're finally here" I say as you beam at me. Excitedly you get out of the car first, wanting to see the cottage and the lake.

You turn toward me and say "It's beautiful here. It's perfect".

You say this to me standing in a clearing beside a still black lake, a cottage of warmth and comfort. You say this with the moon shining on your smiling face and turning your curls into a halo. You say this with a million stars all around you, the smell of the woods, and the only other sound is the pounding in my chest. You are beautiful - your are perfect... and I am at a loss for words.

"It is" is all I can choke out as I take your hand to lead you to stand by the water.