Lake Chemong, 1954. Every summer, from June to August, the Fogle
family pack up and leave the big city of Toronto, escaping to their
white, cedar-clad cottage, the last in a row of a cluster of houses
nestled in primordial forest on a wide, ink-blue lake. Mr Fogle, a
silent mountain of a man, built the cottage himself. In the mind of
ten year old Bruce, his father is brown and green, the colours of
the land, his whip smart, gregarious mother, a vivid and fiery red.
This year, joining his parents, his older brother Rob and Angus the
family dog, is his mother's wise and enigmatic brother, Reub. At
first, this summer break seems like any other. Bruce spends his
days floating in the row boat with Grace from next door, jumping
off the diving raft, eating peach pie, watching the seagulls and
herons, observing frogs and turtles and catching crayfish.
Relishing the heat of the sun on his bare skin and the sludge of
the lakebed beneath his toes, he, even at this young age,
understands his life is pretty perfect. But then everything starts
to change. Family dynamics are shifting, and over the summer both
the harshness of the adult world and the thoughtless cruelty of
children leave their mark. By the time the weather turns Bruce will
be a different child, and will have chosen his own path to
understanding the shifting, fragile wilderness that frames their
summer idyll. Teeming with wonderful characters, Barefoot at the
Lake is the story of a boy discovering his place in the world and
realising his deep connection with nature. It is a memoir that will
utterly transport you - you'll feel the sun on your face, the
pebbles of the lake under foot and catch the scent of the pine on
the wind.
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