In the thin vale of early morning haze, the pine-topped mountains grow to the water’s edge – tall, proud, and green.  There are pines colored so darkly green they look black, and others colored so light they look lime.  Musical calls of birds fill the sky. The water is still and clean, and minnows dart about, and pebbles of many shapes, sizes and colors decorate the basin of the lake adding more for the eyes to behold. Minutes turn into hours, hours into days and a week of bliss.  At any hour of the day, these great northern woods bring delight.

Delight also found Jacob, almost eleven who had not changed his boxers for three days which indicated even with a nightly reminder, his teeth had not been brushed for the same.  A messy, enthusiastic eater, the menu for the week could be read upon his gray, cotton shirt – beef oil, mustard, ketchup, coffee, watermelon, barbecue sauce, a spot of now soured milk and a gooey, marshmallow glob holding pine needles and other earthly debris wrapped in its sweet deliciousness.  There was also one wrinkled, dried, and quite stubborn kernel of corn stuck at the hem of his shirt.  It was a vacation that gave escape from the place that we call home and retreat from the mundane conditions and constraints of our daily lives. 

When hate has multiplied and we are successful at killing ourselves over oil, water, land, or God, life will be reborn in a place like this. Perhaps the spirit of this little boy will evoke a time of simplicity and innocence and a few survivors will make new within the sweet pine.

Jacob, come, sit and listen to the sounds distant and near.  Can you hear? Can you hear the pine growing?