Lake it or not

Growing up, there was always someone with a, 'Lake House' that they were off to during the sticky heat of summer. Where I grew up, lakes were reservoirs: valleys that had been flooded and filled - dark, brown, slimy bottomed, water sources. With lots of weird bottom feeder, lake nature. No thanks. And then there was the whole lake culture thing that included things like,  beer koozies and what not. Nope. Not for me. You can keep your ski-dos and party coves. I wasn't cut out for lake life.

I did once have the opportunity to visit someone's lake house in the fall. It was a whole different spin on the idea. Nobody tried to coax me into the brown, fishy waters. It was totally acceptable to just look at it.  The trees were in various stages of fall folliage, some golden, some already half barren, and so that was nice. In the crisp morning, we crunched along the banks of the lake and, if I remember correctly (or this could be a total fake memory - I do that. Inadvertently of course. ) we took a bottle of wine, a couple of blankets and a paddle boat out on a misty still lake at dusk. It was beautiful. That time. I 'did' and I dug The Lake.

When I ran across these Belgian House (near  Lake Genval) photos, with the green water and all, I thought,  ok, now this is what a lake house should be all about - The Belgian look gone Lake.  Restoration Hardware, eat your heart out - shiny copper pot collections, intimate dining rooms, 'bois' on bois, ashy, grayed bois for that matter, rough hewn woods, painted even! and how about those awesome plaster worn walls? There's no way you couldn't go to a little jewel like this and not have the most romantic of times- and you wouldn't even have to embellish the memories.

 

Photographer: Christophe Rouffino via: weranda