When I suggested to my guy a couple of months ago that we might take a vacation in September, he gave me that dubious look I know so well. “It’ll be a staycation,” I said. “And what will we do?” he asked.

We’ll sit on the patio and drink beer crafted just for such occasions.

We’ll work on house projects including rebuilding the water feature.

And share some trails with our youngest who will travel north with his gal.

Along the way we’ll notice bobcat scat.

And lowbush blueberries turned red.

At the summit we’ll spy cotton grass growing where we least expect it.

And from the summit we’ll spy our hometown mountain on the horizon.

Descending via a different trail, we’ll help our young guy develop his bear claw tree eyes.

And we’ll take a few minutes to explore a pool emerald green.

In our own woodlot, we’ll reclaim the trails we made so long ago.

And build mammal condominiums for the little brown things that live in these woods.

At the end of one day after she’s finished working from “home,” aka camp, we’ll watch as our young guy and his gal prepare a delicious meal for us.

And I’ll be thrilled that both of you will know to take off your hats before we begin dining.

Early one morning we’ll climb that hometown favorite, which we’ve avoided for the past seven months.

And at the summit we’ll take turns posing.

Another day the two of us will climb up a ski trail where X may mark the spot but we still won’t be sure if we’re in the right place for the hiking trail we seek.

Still, we’ll poke around at the summit where lots of cell towers stand and locate a view of our intended destination in the background.

Finally, rather by accident, or will it be serendipity, we’ll discover a sign that will lead us into the woods we sought.

We’ll follow the trail for several miles but give ourselves a turn-around time and not worry about reaching the other end and finish up late in the day with eleven miles behind us.

On the way back via the same trail, we’ll discover one of the best bear claw trees ever.

At some point we’ll watch our youngest hop back onto his unicycle and ride again.

While doing more yard/house work, we’ll watch a Pileated Woodpecker . . .

excavate an old tree in search of food.

And then I’ll add pink polka-dots to the house because I always wanted to live in a pink polka-dotted house.

And you’ll pull out all the power tools you can, while I repaint the barn door green.

You’ll also straighten out the barn, creating piles for the dump store and burn pile, and then creating sections much like your hardware store.

Among your projects, you’ll rebuild a couple of shutters to give the house a completed look.

Simultaneously, I’ll spend hours reading, knitting, and creating something that didn’t occur to me until mid-week: a labyrinth in our woods.

In the end, you’ll continue to know that I’ll follow you anywhere.

And by the same token, I’ll always be proud and happy to stand beside you.

As our staycation comes to a close, we’ll again sit on the patio and sip beers while reminiscing about the week that you doubted and you’ll share how much you loved it and I’ll do the same as we each name three things that we found most meaningful as is our tradition at the end of a vacation and we’ll add more to the discussion and give thanks for the time that we shared together, with our youngest son and his gal, and doing our own thing. We won’t want the time to end, but will give thanks that we both love our jobs, which will help ease the transition back to reality.

We won’t know when the week starts that it’s balance we sought, but by the end we’ll find it . . . or maybe it will find us.