by Mitch Lee
As I was strolling down the paved road towards Lime-kiln Lake on that late July day in 1978, I could hear Andy Gibb belting out “Shadow Dancing” from a radio down by the beach.
The pavement was far too hot to go barefoot and almost too hot under my Converse sneakers.
I could hear the razor-like hum of the Cicadas slicing through the humid air which was already quite thick at ten in the morning.
My dog Mutt was by my side and careful to stay off the road as she trotted in the ditches and deep weeds along its edge.
Every so often she would spook a butterfly and chase it a bit as it fluttered to a new flower.
She never tried to eat them…just poked them with her nose as if they were playing a game of tag.
Once we reached the beach we took our usual stroll from one end of the beach to the other.
I threw a large stick as far into the lake as I could and Mutt hunted for where it landed.
But we both decided it was too hot a day to stay at the beach and made our way on the old trail that cut through Timber Rock and out onto the sand road.
We trotted down the dead end road to the bridge over the inlet.
I took a seat on the shaded bridge and dangled my feet over the edge.
It seemed as if the temperature was 20 degrees cooler there.
Mutt was soon down the bank and lying in the cool creek below.
The smell of wet moss and damp limbs and leaves mixed with spruce hovered in the still air.
On a day like that, it was the best place to really rest. I leaned back, and with my head and shoulders firmly against the deck of the bridge I closed my eyelids.
My body was in a trance and I listened to the gurgling brook.
I spent a good half hour there just resting.
At some point Mutt came up the muddy bank, shook her fur, and laid down next to me. We both fell asleep.
But then, we were awakened by the sound of footsteps on the bridge.
Mutt stood up to greet our new traveling visitor as I sat up and shouted, ”Sure is hot today!”
The traveler, a man in his 40s, said hello, scurried over the bridge and made his way without stopping.
Mutt followed him off the bridge for a few steps then stopped and looked back at me.
When she saw I was not moving she came back and sat with me for a few moments more.
I hated to leave this cool spot as the day was as blazing hot as a furnace.
But it was time to chase more butterflies and go for a swim.
—
Mitch Lee, Adirondack native & storyteller,
lives at Inlet. ltmitch3rdny@aol.com