Trout Whisperer - Lodged, in my mind

It is in me to imagine a perfection. Then to see it, to breathe it, that’s the chocolate on the sundae, and my confectioned Sunday topping, is the gray wispy downdraft of the smoke coming from the main lodges chimney.
They burn birch exclusively. You open the creaky main door on the massive log lodge, warm soft lights over head in moose antler chandeliers grab your eye every day and the wood heat draws you right to the stone hearth over eight feet long.
We had coffee at the cabin, but the feeling of being up in the main lodge pulls on me, I gotta go see it again.
And, Ok, maybe, I’m a part moth, I can’t lay off looking at the contained orange flames and the smell of birchbark burning.
The proprietor’s wife hands us mugs of steaming coffee. Coffee is great, it’s even better when wearing a thick lined sweater and a friendly generous hand pours you a cup and then, even delivers it.
Yup leaves have changed, bluebill ducks scurr’l out on the main lake, pinecones ripped by winds scatter the walking paths, it looks like how the outdoors should look, this late in the fall.
Lodges like this, are why you go, why you love being there, and why it actually bothers you the rest of year that on check out day, you have to leave. We thank them for how we feel. Like they filled us with wellness, and in ways I guess they surely did.
One more draught of woodsmoke and out the door we have to go, but we don’t want to.

~ The trout whisperer