Things I Will Miss About My Summer at Smokey House Center

Author Ella Sachs

Published August 2026

I will miss how the morning light falls into my room. The rays gently kissing my face, nudging me from my dreams. The wide floorboards, amber in the sun.  

I will miss the quiet of a still-sleeping house. The chatter of chimney swifts. Shaylen, at the table, head bent over the crossword. 

I will miss Dorset Peak. Its silhouette hazy in the morning fog, bold in the evening sun. So many shades of green.

I will miss the routine of an inventory. The yellow birch, the sugar maple, the hemlock, the ash. Shane with his mango. Ela and her birds.

I will miss staff lunch. Catching up after a busy week. Celebrating Finn’s birthday. Joy and laughter over a shared meal.  

I will miss the blueberries. The peace of a simple task. Dusky blue. So much joy in that round little fruit. 

I will miss the river. Whose water is so cool and sweet. Whose rocks are so soft and warm. Anna in the sun.  

I will miss the dirt road. A view with no houses. Where the only light comes from the stars and the fireflies. Walking barefoot in the dark. 

I will miss the organic farm turned music venue on Sunday nights. The feeling of grass beneath my feet as I stomp and twist and jump. A tug of peace. A cool drink. 

I will miss the yellow house. With a picnic table, clothesline, and garden in the front. A small firepit in the back. Where we had family dinners, carved our spoons, solved our crosswords. Where we watched a tree fall, bees swarm, and a bear eat. 

I will miss what I do not know I will miss. The things I will never learn about this place and these people. The friends I will never meet. The seasons I will never see. 

How lucky am I. To have so much to miss.

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