How Often?
How often will a weary cashier see
long after midnight, shopping in a
Plattsburgh Price Chopper grocery
cheerful mature men, all three
giddy as kids going to summer camp?
Which we are.
Arriving near dawn,
directly to the lake we're drawn.
No need for flashlights on
this trail learned by heart
a lifetime ago.
We strip and dive
— WAHOO! —
startling the loons.
Purple water
split by the moon
so calm,
ice-cold on flesh
like balm.
First as campers, later as counselors, now as owners (and I, friend-of-owners), we gather in late June for a long weekend to open the cabins. There's water to turn on, pipes to repair, docks to install, weeds to hack. In 1999 we met in the Montreal airport baggage area, each from separate flights, near midnight and drove across the border. Customarily we buy groceries in Plattsburgh, then drive along the Saranac River through sleeping villages until at last we arrive at Silver Lake. Door-to-door for me it's a 15 hour journey.
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