Lake life is a state of mind. It is what it is on the surface, a place to live out the simple life in a less expensive, less fussy way and yet, like much man touches a place of imagination and personal investment. I was first invited to cottaging by my home town neighbours who were building one and wanted an extra pair of hands and a companion of their youngest son. A few weekends became several years, boyhood really. You learned to live by natural clues, time by cast shades, moisture by sky colour, when leaves turn and on and on, You learned to keep your own hours staying up for the longest day to see dusk happen before the sun came right up again. The run of the fish up the rapids to lay their eggs in quiet streams. Waterskiing on mirror like, black topped lakes in the heat of the evening. Asking our neighbours for beers as they were so lit no one checked in the dark and going back to play cards. A mother discovering this and raiding us finding the private hoard of the owner. It was a time of wonder, laughs and testing skills at every turn. A reminder of the need to invest in life to live it.