Huddle Bay

When my mother and her sisters were very young, my grandparents brought them to Huddle Bay on Lake George.  My grandfather sailed with his brother, and there are multitudes of pictures of the five daughters jumping off the dock into the clear water.  There are pictures of my grandmother sitting with her friends, looking stylish and poised despite having five kids to look after.  Maybe her sunglasses hide the shadows that I think must have been under her eyes?  To me, Huddle Bay seemed a place that existed only long ago and far away, in black and white pictures taken by my grandfather.
Yesterday I had to get out of the house.  Neither child would sleep at naptime and out of desperation I thought a drive in the car would be just the thing to lull them into deep dreams.  I didn't know where to go, so I went north, and found myself driving along the shore of Lake George...the west shore.  After the village I took a right onto 9N and headed for Diamond Point.  The lake looked beautiful; sunshine sparkled off the water, and there was color everywhere.  Purple mountains, bright green new leaves, red buds on the maple trees, piercing yellow forsythia, and the bluest of skies made my drive a feast for the eyes.  I My babies, although still not sleepy, were calmed by the view and the ride, so I kept going.  And suddenly came upon a sign that said "Huddle Beach Road". 
I turned around and followed the road to find a very small beach at the end, with a long dock and beautiful view of the Lake.  I have no idea if this is where my mom's family came all of those years ago, but it was lovely so we stopped and got out of the car. 






After our brief time at Huddle Beach Emma needed a bottle, which gave me time to take a few close-up pictures of her in good light.




"But wait!" you say, "Why are there no new pictures of Harry?"
I tried, but all I can get out of him right now is:

He's a stinker.  You'll have to take my word for it that he is handsome and lively and adorable.