When we go to Idaho, the first view of the lake always makes my heart beat. We pull down the driveway and the sky opens up and the smell of the air is like a drug.
We spend the days barefoot and non-productive. Friends drive out and stay with us and they bring puzzles and wine and lime green inner-tubes. All the children run wild and free, with popsicles or water balloons or squirt guns.
At night I fall asleep and dream about packs of wolves and birds in nests far off the ground.
I always think that Idaholand will last forever. But eventually, it comes to an end, and we have to say goodbyedaho.
On our final day here, we take one last dip, we pack up the car, we collect some rocks, we leave some things behind, we notice that our skin is more golden, we deflate the inner tubes, we hang up our towels, we take another swing in the hammock and we wave at the lake as we head down the driveway.
But as soon as we pull out onto the main highway; as soon as the lake begins to disappear behind us, we start to dream about coming back.
*thank-you to ara and lisa for making the trek, for bringing your littles and for getting down with the noho. and thank-you to nana and poppy for creating such an amazing place, and for always being willing to share it.