Watkins Glen is an adorable little town in the southern Finger Lakes area. Everything about it is quaint and cute. The gift shops are probably the only ones in America that aren’t overly commercialized. The restaurants are mostly privately owned little shops, not national chains. There is no Hilton, Howard Johnson or even Holiday Inn. And, shockingly enough, there isn’t even a Starbucks in the area.
By eight oclock at night, everything is closed. This isn’t a Lake George-type place where a body of water is an excuse to open haunted Wax Museums. The attraction here simply is the beauty and stillness of Seneca Lake. With nothing else to do, we head toward the water and walk. It’s breathtakingly gorgeous. There is a rough stone walk along the lake. The sun is setting, turning the water the most magnificent shades of orange and pink.
The people here walk slowly, talk quietly. They seem to have a deeper respect for the land, for the natural beauty. It’s not even eleven pm yet, and this campground is silent except for the crackling of campfires from the nearby cabins. There is an eerie yet special feeling to sit in the stillness of night, and see nothing but the lights of a couple of campfires. And while sure, I cracked jokes about how campgrounds didn’t use to have wifi, all in all, this trip is an interesting reminder for me. No, this isn’t quite the vacation I have been planning on. Actually, I don’t know if I would even call it a vacation. It’s more of an obligatory night at the cabin my family is staying at. But despite my initial misgivings, I am glad I came. It’s interesting to see a place where a natural attraction still is natural.