Disconnecting at the cottage

It’s a warm evening at the cottage. We finish dinner and start to discuss our post-dinner game choices. There are three generations this evening as my Mom is visiting. A boardgame? Cards? My niece proposes another option: “Anyone want to go for a swim?” She is a mermaid at heart. “I’m in,” I reply. The two of us quickly change into our bathing suits and head for the lake while the others settle on Euchre.

Floating in the water I ask my niece what she likes about the cottage.

“Freedom,” she says. “I get to do what I want. No school, parents telling me to do things.”

I get it.

With unscheduled days there’s the freedom to do your own thing. And less that needs to get done.

On one of my unhurried days, I take a good long walk. The forest is at the height of its summer-ness. The green canopy is dense, wildflowers line the side of the road, red raspberries pop on the bushes, mushrooms sprout on the forest floor. It’s blooming. Of course it’s a completely different scene in winter. It reminds me that we have cycles too. Cottage season has always felt like a time to slow down and unwind. At least that’s my justification for afternoon naps on the screened-in porch.

A few weeks later, my cousin is up at the cottage and he discovers the coveted napping spot. A long bench, topped with a stripped cushion, sits up against the screened wall. The open space allows a gentle breeze to waft through even on very hot days. When he finally opens his eyes he says, rather drowsily, “Oh wow, I wasn’t planning on sleeping.”

Ah, the best kind of nap. The one that just happens.

He recalls our childhood and teenage years at the cottage. We were given a fair bit of autonomy. Our only scheduled activity was a late morning tennis game, followed by a cold lemonade and dive in the lake. Afternoons were wide open to do as we pleased. Everything was more relaxed, from our well worn cottage clothes, to meals (burgers and sausages on the grill) to parental oversight. These memories are decades old, yet as an adult, the cottage still evokes this relaxed feeling for him.

“I needed to disconnect,” my cousin says. The cottage is the ideal place. We hike, play in waterfalls, paddle board, swim, stargaze and eat well. Eyes trained on nature around us rather than a screen.

As kids, we didn’t have computers, text messaging or social media to contend with so this kind of “disconnection” was a given. We didn’t even have a phone line in the early days. My Dad, not one to totally disconnect, would paddle over to the Marina every weekday morning to use the pay phone to call into the office.

And purchase the Toronto Star.

I was most interested in the comics section. The Saturday edition had a big colourful insert. Easy reading to go with the lazy summer days. This seems to be one thing we all tend to do in our free time. Reading. I ask my niece one evening, engrossed in a Warriors Cat book, if she prefers reading or swimming. After a long moment of thought she replies, “Swimming. Reading is very close behind.”

It’s hard to choose between two favourite activities. Thankfully the cottage provides ample time for both.