A requirement of any lake trip is a campfire after dinner and the promise of some sticky, sweet s'mores. The children had a chance to eat these treats, the rest of us, too — although I cheated this time and just nibbled on a few squares of chocolate, forgoing the graham crackers and marshmallows.
But I found the greatest pleasure in staring at the fire. Watching the flames flicker and dance, marveling at the colors, savoring the warmth, too. (It's chillier here than back home.)
We sat by the fire until it burned to embers, an owl sounded behind us, and daylight faded to black.
