I've been thinking a lot about our summers as kids at a remote lake in Ontario. We only went there for 3 or 4 years but for all of us it was a magical time. Somehow this is so much a part of the Canadian myth, the rustic cottage, the cool velvet water, the gleam of stones, the water lilies in the boggy places, the sound of loons, watching the thunderstorms roll through. Most of our time was spent swimming and canoeing, building rafts and forts. But the strongest memory for me is watching the water, the pine trees edging the lake and the sky above. This I carry with me, a particular horizon.