Some time ago, I posted a photo of my family's Lake House on Seneca Lake, Lodi, New York, U.S.A. The photo was from a decade ago. Things have changed since then.
Today, I had the ultimate pleasure of revisiting the place where my imagination grew. A place I envisioned an alien visitation, and dreamed of growing old there.
A few years back, a couple bought the house and expanded it. The boat house, on the left, was once a Blip, complete with cast iron fry pans on either side of the old front door. It doesn't remotely resemble that place now.
Larger than life, yet sans a boat, my family's lake house stands. A shock to my senses, yet somehow, I think my dad would have approved.
Any one of us would jump at the chance to own this place. It is sacred land. The place where our father passed away, and where his ghost still walks today.