Lake Sunapee is the place where my family and I spent many a summer afternoon for years, whizzing around on our small boat, casting an occasional line into the water, hanging around lazily in the sun at the sandbar, and puttering around casually at times, discovering every nook and cranny of the lake that would become my love. 

The beautiful thing about Sunapee is her solitude.  It hangs over the lake like a blanket of peace and calm, only to be disturbed by the sound of fireworks on the Fourth of July, the rare unruly child, or the sound of a boat scrambling across from shore to shore. 

Sunapee is the smaller, sweeter sibling to the much larger Lake Winnipesaukee.  Where Winnipesaukee clamors for attention, always desiring to be in the center of all the action, Sunapee is more like the wallflower, overlooked at first, sitting in the corner of the room with arms crossed and eyes diverted, avoiding eye contact. 

It’s not that she doesn’t want to get to know you.  She just wants you to wander over, when you’re good and ready.  And once you do - the moment you make contact - you are suddenly struck by her charm.  Dig a little deeper, spend some time on her waters, get past the shy and quiet girl, and you’ll be taken in by her mystery and splendor.  You’ll fall in love with all her ripples and rocks, with each curve and every cove. 

And you’ll never want to leave.