Hideaway & a rustic gazebo

Still no rain for us except for a few drops one night and the following morning. Last week was so warm we had to pack up our swimming gear the other day and head for a dip. There are several lakes not that far from our place but we seldom go to any of them because of the crowded beaches. Instead we steer to a small river in a neighbouring village.

Whenever we pop into this little hideaway we never find more than one or two small groups of swimmers there. There is a calm river pool with a tiny sandy beach for the young ones. There is a stretch of floating beach decks you can spread you towels on. There is also a small island with full-grown birches you can swim around or sunbathe on, not that I would do either. In a country famous for its lakes, I was raised in a region where there are hardly any. It was before the times of the public swimming pools so I never learnt how to swim and I generally only cool myself in the water for a few short moments.

Being in a river, the pool remains rather chilly and refreshing even in the hottest of weathers. The gentle murmur of the humble rapids carrying the stream away further enhances the serenity of the place. An occasional creaking of the pontoon brackets is the only mechanical sound disturbing the tranquility.

As this was our first call to the river this season, I had to check before my dip my favourite outdoor structure up on the river bank by the playing field of the nearby primary school. It is an old hexagonal wooden village pavilion, the rustic gazebo of my dreams. You could do anything under a shelter like that: dance, dine, party. Simply, kick up your heels through the night. Not to mention what uses the future grandchildren could figure out for a place like that.

Ever since I saw the pavilion about a decade ago, I’ve been dreaming about one of my own. We would have lots of space for one, by the old red brick cowhouse that was to become a bed & breakfast in my daydreams, for example. (Had to bury the b&b idea rather soon as it would be more than troublesome to attract visitors to an isolated place like ours.) You could entertain your family and friends in there, and arrange all kinds of parties and celebrations outdoors practically all year round if you had such a structure in your yard.

Should I be 10 years younger I might just push the pavilion through even though dancing through the night would be completely out of the question for us these days. Dreams are good for you but it’s wise to let go of those that are no longer realistic. Now that I’ve documented the adorable construction for the younger generations, I might see a similar one being erected somewhere one day. You never know. Some dreams are just too powerful to be put aside even if you had reached the age when waking up ache free would imply you must be lifeless.