An interesting thing about these beaches, North end and South end, the North end is a secluded nude beach, the South is a very exposed more public beach. Vermont is more of a liberal free state, with less stuck up people (we still have a few people who complain about everything) than other states. I've always preferred the North end, it has natural shade from the trees and I liked walking down the long winding path to get there. There is usually less people over there too, so it doesn't become over crowded.
Some people aren't completely comfortable being on the nude end of Willoughby, that's fine, that means it's less crowded. And, yes it is COMPLETELY out of view from the road, and the boat launch that's right next to it. You have to go through trails in the woods, or swim out, then over, to get to it. I believe it's the only beach in Vermont that has a nude end, and it's nice to go there and not feel judged on how you look, swim suit or not.
Enough ranting, the poem is below, I hope you enjoy it. Comment about where you go to escape from the world, I'd love to hear about it. Also, enjoy some of the pictures I have of lake Willoughby, later this summer, I'll get more and post them.
Traveling closer, to that wondrous place, memories flood my mind.
Then, over the rise, I hold my breath.
Those clear, lucid mountains are bold on the blue horizon.
Deep green trees, cover the mountains with funny names,
the steep rock faces, over look the water we can't see yet.
Those green Earth mounds are cloaked in blue gray haze;
they are still beautiful.
Traveling closer, on winding roads with hills and slopes,
I look upon the quiet Vermont town, I spent my youth.
In this hushed place, of forest, peaks and meadow,
cows graze, people garden and crows fly around.
I once, use to gaze to the west, from window ledge,
watching in rapture, the shadows pass over yonder ridge.
I watched the seasons and sunsets change the view, and still it was beautiful.
Those tall Earthly peaks, were carved from stone and ice,
and ancient, roaming ocean tides.
Here and now, lies glacial lake,
fed by ice cold mountain streams,
surrounded by trees, and rocks,
some houses too, dilapidated and new.
Energy you can feel, is in the air,
water and the trails your feet travel.
This lake, these two mountains, are home,
this is where my Grandfathers ashes are scattered,
where I go to balance my mind, cleanse my wary soul.
The magick of this place, flows deeply, in my blood.
Looking upon the place, I haven't viewed in a season or two,
my breath is taken, my heart has quickened.
Full of life, birds are singing, fish are swimming, people are laughing.
I'm captivated, yet again, by the charm,the sense of calm, that rolls over me.
The enchantment, in the reclusive lake,
lies in the energy, the Earth exudes.
I set foot on trail of wet mire, and roots of trees, older than me,
entangled in arduous web, that form dips and craters.
The footpath serpentines, around mossy boulders and trees,
finally leading to the beach.
The course sand is hot on my toes,
the air, nippy still, in the summer heat.
The lake laps gently on the shore in slow succession.
The water is a cool distraction, to the suns sweltering torture.
The water, is more than water, it cleanses me,
it casts away the gloom clinging to my soul.
This place of healing, infuses me with creative energy,
I am fully charged, once again.
This lake I visit for well-being.
I stay all day, gazing at the mountains two,
enraptured, also, by glittering, silver, blue.
I leave late, after the moon, has cleansed me too.
I say good-bye, but only for a short time.
I will always wonder back, pulled by unseen string,
I'm attached to this hallowed ground, by blood
and mind.
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