From time to time, I end up somewhere that is really special. Maybe it is the place itself, or maybe it is in comparison to what has immediately gone before it, I can’t be sure. There are moments in time where all of the elements just add up perfectly. For instance, take these things and add them together: an overcast day, a perfect dirt road that has just had the loose dust beaten into submission by the rain, an 18th century estate, and a canoe on the back pond.
Truth be told, the perfect day didn’t start out well. There was a supposedly haunted lighthouse at Point Lookout State Park that I wanted to poke around in. No one wanted me to do it, because the place was blocked off.
We left the locked lighthouse behind and set off for Woodlawn. Things got better. And quick.
Out back, an orchestra played my favorite Led Zeppelin song (or at least, they played a Led Zeppelin song) while we sat at the end of the dock and watched the small crowd of guests on the back porch.
Pretty soon, we had to take a canoe out on the water. When we rounded the last bend out of sight of the main house, a bald eagle flew right over our heads.
Our home for the night was a small cottage with a red door away from the main house, and by the pond. We were secluded, tucked away from the world, and safe from anything not directly related to our own happiness.
The next morning, I drank coffee by the pond and finalized Chapter 8 of Haunted Asylums, Prisons, and Sanatoriums.
I have always loved a good hideout.