Everything has just closed for the season at Apgar Village. The windows are boarded up, summer signs have been swapped for ones with off-season instructions, and only one building has a light in the window–it’s above a gift shop. I find myself wondering who is up there. If I come back in the summer, I will probably see that person behind the counter, asking me how they can help me. But now the welcome talk is nonexistent. That person is cozying up with a good book and a cup of tea, while I wander through this seasonal ghost town.
Its a little disconcerting to be the only one here. However, I shift and jostle my mind purposefully into a groove, and soon I am comfortable with it. Even happy. No one but me is here on this cool day, seeing this place as I am seeing it.
As I drive around the corner to the boat ramp. I see grey clouds hanging in layers above the long expanse of Lake McDonald. Then suddenly I notice, at the end of the lake, the mountains. How did I not see them the first second I was here? I think it was because I didn’t expect them. I thought I would have to go much further into the park to see such a spectacular sight. And the shore has a personality of its own, with multicolored rocks on the beach and in the shallow, crystal-clear water. Continue reading