Boundary Waters Refreshment

Boundary Waters Refreshment

The surrounding woods lie dark and hushed, austere against the vast dome that is the night sky. Floating across the sky is an immense aurora, never failing to amaze even the accustomed eye. This is the Boundary Waters, my favorite place to escape from everyday routine. Escape from the daily commute, the packed lunch and the late nights. One place in particular, a place of tradition, is a campsite nestled on a peninsula that juts out on to Alton Lake. Alton is one of hundreds of lakes in the Boundary Waters all connected by a thin dirt trail called a portage so that you may carry your canoe in between lakes. Nothing with a motor is allowed and the closest fast food restaurant is 4 hours away. It is here that many memories have been shared. Memories that range from the excitement of first setting up camp to the stillness and solitude that a lakeside walk holds. This place for me is the epitome of rejuvenation.

Refreshment is one of the first descriptive words that comes to mind when thinking about the Boundary Waters. The main reason for this is the lack of daily pressures and time constraints. If there was one thing I wish I had more of during each semester it is time. The Boundary Waters does not require measurement of time. In the Boundary Waters, not having to rely on measured time is a luxury that I appreciate. Usually I like to leave the watch behind and simply focus on that exact moment. This is certainly not hard to do when I am surrounded by the innate allure that this place holds. When I am floating on a canoe in the middle lake, the surface of which is like glass, I can look in every direction and see nothing man made. There is nothing calling for attention and no assignment to be completed. Without so many requisites tugging at me it means spending more time doing fewer things. The only thing that I feel inclined to do is provide adoration to my surroundings. Spending time there is like going back in time to when canoeing these lakes was the only method of travel. Now in modern times we relive these moments from history but this time for leisure.

Relaxing without things like music or television is not hard in the Boundary Waters. Often I find the sweet smell of a cigar intertwined with the earthy smell of campfire smoke to be comforting. This is one of the many smells of the Boundary Waters. This is the smell of fellowship. A smell that is paired with the delicate warm glow of a campfire. The fire itself is pulsating, the glowing embers seem to move in rhythm with the flames. The flames give off light the dances on the dark and twisted trees, providing a small circle of light. It is not a harsh electric light but rather a smooth glow that is pleasing to the eyes. The fire gives off a heat not experienced anywhere else for miles, habitually drawing me closer with its warm glow. This scene is a nightly tradition, the reward at