It’s time for me to go.  The bedding is in the dryer, the floors are vacuumed.  The cat is sad and so am I.  During my time here the most consistent sounds were the murmur or crash of the lake, and the drumming of the ruff grouse off in the woods.  No traffic, no airplanes, no neighbors, no dog.  I’ve come to enjoy the silence here with that sweet undertone of the lake and the birds.

This morning lying in bed I realized I didn’t hear the grouse, though most mornings his is the first sound I recognize.  And there was no soft rolling of the lake either.  Just silence.  Real silence.  The only sound I heard was  my own heartbeat in my ears.  I got up to check the lake; the rain last night had turned to light fog and the lake was flat, fading off into infinity.

I ran down to the beach to say goodbye and it lisped back a regretful farewell.  Then I climbed the 44 steps for the last time.  And headed for home.