When a house has been in a family for several generations, it exudes a certain "comfortable" quality. It's well worn and somewhat tattered; in a good way. Everything has a space to which it belongs.
An early morning view of the porch. Without electricity, the house is still dark inside.
For many years, family members have gathered around this table and shared a meal.
There are cozy nooks for reading and relaxing everywhere you turn.
The house settles in to the afternoon shadows.
It's hard to leave this space.
The water activities await.
So peaceful reading a book by the light at the window.
I like to think of the generation of hands that have touched these dishes.
A meal enjoyed by the forest.
Ghosts of families past walk these stairs.
Pancakes made on a wood fired griddle. Spectacular.
There's a place for everyone and everything here.
Memories of days gone by.
A view to the serene woodlands.
Books and pipes untouched by time.
We welcomed the breeze through the old screen.
A beautiful watercolor of the natural surroundings.
Structurally incredible.
Bread is tucked safely away from "critters".
There's nothing like an Adirondack porch swing.
That porch is divine. It must be something else when the leaves turn.
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