My mother would often ponder on the fact that the older you get, the faster time passes. At the time I thought that sounded rediculous, but like always, mom was right. The seasons seem to march by as quickly as turning pages in a good novel, and I have no power to slow them down. I am just forced to follow along, and take my part in the chapters.
If there was ever a perfect spot to watch these seasons unfold, I would have to think that it's here on the banks of Big Stone Lake. Minnesota is one of those states fortunate enough to experience all four seasons in all their glory ... although I'd guess most of us would prefer a bit more Spring and Fall, and a lot less winter.