|The beautiful Harlow.|
|Kayaking up the Chocolay River|
On the last day, a wind whipped up the lake to a frenzy. It really seemed like an ocean then, too wide to see across, impossible to understand.
|It's a little windy|
My high school years were an unhappy time; I always knew there was something else I was meant to do, different people to meet. It was good to return to my stomping grounds as an adult and see how far I have come. And I can understand now why people want to come here.
|OK, this is just as good as mountains. Almost. If only it could be September all the time.|