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STOUT'S ISLAND LODGE, Wis. — The crash of an old wooden screen door against the frame of an old wooden cabin. The thwack of croquet mallets. The trilling and honks of wrens and osprey, their songs bleating to a crescendo, then abruptly, silence, filled only a moment later by the sudden buzzy electric chatter of bugs. The swish of leaves in a breeze off a lake, and the slap of children's feet as they carry oars across an impossibly green lawn that slopes to a water line in the distance. The tentative patter of passing rain on a moss-covered roof.
By Christopher Borrelli, Tribune Newspapers
September 21, 2012