Time to Make Your Mark.

Whittling. I worked all week making those marks in the hard pine wall, the ones that would eventually read as my name. My tool was a boy scout knife, a heavy  four bladed folder with a dark brown bone type handle, three brass pins, steel caps on either end and a small lanyard ring.

the knife I loved…..

Hours passed, as so easily happens on lake time, while I dug the tip of my knife into the wall, first here, then there, connecting the small lines until a minuscule, squared off piece of wood would chip out.

I just knew I had to leave my mark. It was a way for me to stake my claim in the future on the cabin walls a claim all those who might come to the lake could see.

I’d chosen a spot on the wall where the afternoon’s sun reflection off the lake outside…