I have a confession. I lived in Minnesota for three years, and I don’t really like lakes. Well, it’s not that I don’t like lakes per se. It’s more what you can find in a lake that disturbs me.
Every single time I do the whole cabin-on-a-lake weekend, I fake my love of swimming. I like the outdoors, so inevitably some R.E.I.-loving friend assumes this means that I am 100 percent granola and that I must love lakes.
And I do. I like looking at them, riding in boats on top of them, reading next to them, even dangling my feet in the water off the dock. Read More