Loveless is cool

I realized recently that whenever people ask me, “How’s Loveless?” my first thought is to throw out some explanation for having a still un-normal place … that, for example, when we need to get from the walkout basement to the upstairs (and running water) we have to run outside and up a big hill and hoist ourselves onto the Saturn Walkway and step into the weeHouse, where only recently did we have any furniture.

My second thought (which I’m trying to make my first thought) is how wondrous it is to get to know the lake.

One recent morning, Chris and I watched a bald eagle hunched over on a limb and tearing into a meal. Spellbinding. I didn’t give a rip that there were no walls or furniture or running water in the walkout basement. It was all about that awesome eagle.

Maybe it’s because we’ve spent decades since grade school worrying about bald eagles and their very survival. But there’s something deep and powerful about seeing them around. It’s like they think Loveless is pretty cool, too.