Kincardine
Last Friday Tim and I joined the great exodus of cottage go-ers as we left the city, headed for the beautiful shores of Lake Huron, in the little lighthouse town of Kincardine. Friends of ours from the Guelph area, Mike and Liz, had kindly extended the invitation to visit over the last few years but we weren’t able to go until now.
As we neared highway #9 en-route, we heard the gentle “splatter” of what we thought to be rain, but soon discovered to be bugs of monstrous proportion. After a left on highway #21 to concession 10, and then another left onto Bruce Beach Road, we pulled into a long gravel driveway, surrounded by a forest of pines, old spruce, and mosquitoes galore. Sure to apply bug spray before venturing from car to cottage door, we then grabbed our bags and made a run for it, making it safely and soundly across the screened-in threshold.
There before us--amid a glowing wood panelled interior--stood Mike and Liz in their usual warm welcoming way. To complement a glass (or two) of a lovely white wine, they had prepared various plates of fresh radishes and coloured peppers, sweet papaya, mediterranean herbed olives, sundried tomatoes with marinated wild mushrooms, pate, garbonzo bean dip, feta and roasted red pepper spread, along with room temperature gorgonzola, at its very best. Mmmmm.
The late night feast was followed by a quick dip in the warm Huron waters a few steps from their back deck. Thankfully the beachfront was free from insects, and from the sandy shore I alone witnessed the inky darkness gradually swallowing the brave souls that dared venture into the great lake at night. We marvelled at how eerily dark it was, the moon obscured by clouds, gentle raindrops beginning to fall. Alas, what was that pale apparition emerging from the depths?! My dear, sweet Tim.
Early next morning, we were greeted by baby Adeline, the beautiful. Delightful firstborn of Mike and Liz. We held her (Tim did a few tricks) and were positively delighted at how pleasant a baby she is. Always smiling, observing, cooing. It was awesome to see how she has grown the last few months, to watch her and have her watch us with her long lashed blue eyes. Her parents adore her, and it’s obvious why.
Tim and I walked along the beach, throwing rocks into the water and stopping every now and then to wonder at the bright orange sun setting over the vast oceanic expanse, though but a lake. For the first time in years we built sandcastles and tried to fly a broken kite. Though I did not swim, I waded out to a sandbar and posed on a rock. Like a Siren. WOO-oo-WOO-oo-WOO-oo.
This particular beachfront area is so quiet--a modern day utopia. No ski-dos, no motorboats, hardly anyone along the beach. As we lay for hours in the sand, the warm sun and cool lake created the perfect temperature. I slathered Sunscreen 50 all over Tim, but somehow managed to miss a spot on his ankle (achilles?), an area just above his knee, and one other part on the left side of his waist. Sorry, honey. Tim thinks he left the cottage with a fairer complexion than when he came, but I can honestly swear he was quite tanned compared to that first night at the lake!
Saturday night, Mike and Liz prepared a sumptuous dinner--marinated pork tenderloin with a wonderful aioli-like herbed paste, grilled vegetables, and refreshing pineapple salsa. Liz then offered us some of her home baked cookies with chocolate chips, raisins, pumpkin and flax seeds, and we snacked on those for the hour or so it took Mike to make his first move in Scrabble. Just kidding. It was an half hour.
This past weekend in Kincardine was a peaceful retreat for Tim and me. To leave that little paradise Sunday afternoon, and to return to the crazy busy city life that has become Toronto was quite hard. But to think back on the moments we savoured then and there conjures up the most succinct images: the blessing of true friends, the innocence and wonder of a growing child, the smell of fresh lake air, the sound of the wind and the waves, the touch of the sand, the kiss of the sun. And my Tim, by my side, all the while.
As we neared highway #9 en-route, we heard the gentle “splatter” of what we thought to be rain, but soon discovered to be bugs of monstrous proportion. After a left on highway #21 to concession 10, and then another left onto Bruce Beach Road, we pulled into a long gravel driveway, surrounded by a forest of pines, old spruce, and mosquitoes galore. Sure to apply bug spray before venturing from car to cottage door, we then grabbed our bags and made a run for it, making it safely and soundly across the screened-in threshold.
There before us--amid a glowing wood panelled interior--stood Mike and Liz in their usual warm welcoming way. To complement a glass (or two) of a lovely white wine, they had prepared various plates of fresh radishes and coloured peppers, sweet papaya, mediterranean herbed olives, sundried tomatoes with marinated wild mushrooms, pate, garbonzo bean dip, feta and roasted red pepper spread, along with room temperature gorgonzola, at its very best. Mmmmm.
The late night feast was followed by a quick dip in the warm Huron waters a few steps from their back deck. Thankfully the beachfront was free from insects, and from the sandy shore I alone witnessed the inky darkness gradually swallowing the brave souls that dared venture into the great lake at night. We marvelled at how eerily dark it was, the moon obscured by clouds, gentle raindrops beginning to fall. Alas, what was that pale apparition emerging from the depths?! My dear, sweet Tim.
Early next morning, we were greeted by baby Adeline, the beautiful. Delightful firstborn of Mike and Liz. We held her (Tim did a few tricks) and were positively delighted at how pleasant a baby she is. Always smiling, observing, cooing. It was awesome to see how she has grown the last few months, to watch her and have her watch us with her long lashed blue eyes. Her parents adore her, and it’s obvious why.
Tim and I walked along the beach, throwing rocks into the water and stopping every now and then to wonder at the bright orange sun setting over the vast oceanic expanse, though but a lake. For the first time in years we built sandcastles and tried to fly a broken kite. Though I did not swim, I waded out to a sandbar and posed on a rock. Like a Siren. WOO-oo-WOO-oo-WOO-oo.
This particular beachfront area is so quiet--a modern day utopia. No ski-dos, no motorboats, hardly anyone along the beach. As we lay for hours in the sand, the warm sun and cool lake created the perfect temperature. I slathered Sunscreen 50 all over Tim, but somehow managed to miss a spot on his ankle (achilles?), an area just above his knee, and one other part on the left side of his waist. Sorry, honey. Tim thinks he left the cottage with a fairer complexion than when he came, but I can honestly swear he was quite tanned compared to that first night at the lake!
Saturday night, Mike and Liz prepared a sumptuous dinner--marinated pork tenderloin with a wonderful aioli-like herbed paste, grilled vegetables, and refreshing pineapple salsa. Liz then offered us some of her home baked cookies with chocolate chips, raisins, pumpkin and flax seeds, and we snacked on those for the hour or so it took Mike to make his first move in Scrabble. Just kidding. It was an half hour.
This past weekend in Kincardine was a peaceful retreat for Tim and me. To leave that little paradise Sunday afternoon, and to return to the crazy busy city life that has become Toronto was quite hard. But to think back on the moments we savoured then and there conjures up the most succinct images: the blessing of true friends, the innocence and wonder of a growing child, the smell of fresh lake air, the sound of the wind and the waves, the touch of the sand, the kiss of the sun. And my Tim, by my side, all the while.
posted by nina-and-tim-gregg at 10:00 PM
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