Nothing doing

Our week here is gloriously unscheduled. We figure we’ll canoe, and we know we’ll hike up Elmore Mountain at some point. Beyond that, there are no plans. We embrace the unlittered calendar.

Amelia, 8, and twins Aidan and Liam, 11, welcome the change as much as we do. My wife, Kelly, and I had always said we wouldn’t become the kind of parents who overschedule their children, but somehow they have piano lessons, school band, swimming lessons, and soccer practice. Here in Lake Elmore, they have books and swimsuits.

This is not a vacation packed with sightseeing excursions; there are no museums to take in, no restaurants to dine at. So this is not a story loaded with hints about local hot spots and hidden gems. Rather, it is a celebration of the fine art of doing nothing .

Saturday

After a 240-mile drive, we arrive in late afternoon. We drop our things in the house, head down the boardwalk, and jump in the water. Though we’re in north-central Vermont, the water is warm, and the kids are content to spend their first afternoon hunting for odd-shaped rocks and milfoil, the invasive plant that residents are constantly picking out of the lake.

At sunset, we sit on the dock and marvel at the painted sky. Only after we go inside does the silent electrical storm come. Bright flashes illuminate the sky, and an occasional bolt pierces the dark, but there is no sound. It is too far away.

Sunday

Twice in the early hours I am awakened by a loon’s haunting cry, as I will be nearly every morning this week. If sleep must be interrupted, the loon is the perfect infiltrator.

Midmorning, Amelia and I walk the three-quarters of a mile to the Elmore Store to buy a couple of newspapers.

“Dad?’’ she says.

“Yes, girl?’’

“What are we gonna do today?’’

“Not much of anything,’’ I tell her. “Hang around the lake. Read. Take a walk. That’s about it.’’

In the afternoon, the kids look for fish off the dock. Using a net, they catch a crayfish and put it in a bucket, carefully observing the creature. A half-hour goes by. Aidan says, “Mom, can I let him go?’’

Monday