Another trip to Hanna Lake ( Our Favorite Pick)

 Another trip to Hanna Lake

Zainab Mustaali Sutterwala

Darajah Ashera

 “Are we there yet?” my grandson, impatiently, inquires the millionth time. “Beta, can you see the house at the top of the hill? We have almost arrived.” his mother consoles him. Yet still, I cannot see. I cannot see our two-storey holiday house. Nor its facade of French windows, for my eyes' current capability is only a shadow of what it used to be during my last visit. My eyes are weak but my sights from long ago help me review the place, as if through a clearer, sharpened lens. Memories from my last trip when I was nine years old.  But I do recall the roller coaster feeling while the car climbs up the steep road which is still there.

”Woah!” exclaims the young boy in awe as our car comes to a halt. I had been as excited as he was- maybe even more. I had jumped out of my car seat in hastiness only to hurt myself on the knees. But thanks to the adrenaline rush, I had forgotten the pain in no time. However, I still resolute to be careful this time.

I had been the first one to get out of the car on my first trip but today I am the last. While I slowly manage my heavy body out of the car, my children and grandchildren have already unloaded the picnic baskets and bags from the car. Now that I have come close enough, I can notice that the walls are not that white anymore, but a dusty shade of brown. How I had been able to dodge all the rocks as now, I stumble carefully through them with my walking stick.

All of a sudden, a stray mass of memories brushes across the back of my mind, as a gentle breeze carrying a familiar scent, prompts a wave of blissful flashbacks, which escort me into a trance. And I embrace the winds with open arms as I relive the best part of my childhood once more. I close my eyes and imagine being 9 again. “Hello?” I had shouted from the top of the cliff and my echoes had replied. I smile at the evocative thought soon to realize that I am chilled to my old bones. Maybe a full sleeves shirt, a sweater, and a jacket are not enough anymore.

  “Come inside, Ma. I have turned the heater on for you.”

“Coming in a minute, Dear” I assure as I move forward towards the door which maybe only 30 seconds away for most people. The environment inside the house is warm and cozy. On the right side, sofas are squarely arranged with a small table in between whilst on the left side; the long dining table is set beside the French windows so one can enjoy the meal with a great view.

”The setup is great inside, Dikra. Did you also get the house renovated?” “No Ma, there was no need. Only the walls needed a coat. It's only your second visit; this place is just as new.”

”I don't remember it to be this way”, I uncertainly reply.

How could have I remembered; for I had spent the majority of my time playing outside. I remember the garden and the swings as if it was just yesterday. “Catch me if you can.” I had said breathlessly; proud that I was fast. It was a game full of laughter and how much had I enjoyed. Now those times have drifted far, accompanying my strength and spirit. Though the latter is steadily making its way back ever since I have arrived.

We have come out for lunch, the sun high in the sky showering its warmth upon us. I settle myself in a chair while my son calls the children for lunch. They all come running towards the table, hungry from all the play and I swear I can imagine myself and my cousins coming years ago.

I am grateful I got a second chance to come to the lake because, in all the play, I had completely neglected the view. The place is a complete sweven. The Hanna Lake is amongst a group of hills and our vacation home is on the top of one of them. This time, a lot has changed, as I learn to admire not only the moment but also the venue of these moments and the sheer beauty I am surrounded with. And I look upon my location with an evolved eye, evolved with age and a lifelong experience. Unlike a child's mind, mine acknowledges that my age is at the brink of its demise and each moment should be lived understanding the essence of life itself. As if leisurely enjoying a glass of fresh juice thinking it might be my last.

The lake is a long and tiring walk away from the hilltop but the view is great which is good enough for me. The lake twinkles as if it is covered with copious diamonds. I stare at the lake as hours pass by in minutes quite similarly as how I have seen my years pass by in months.

As the sun goes down beneath the horizon, the air gets colder than what I can bear and we plan to reach home before Maghrib. Working in unity again, the car is quickly loaded and I am seated.

 With two trips more than 50 years apart, I smile that now I have two reminiscences related to this place. I ponder in wonder at my luck as I soon fall asleep like the previous time.