It takes four generations of monarch to reach its destination.  That means the butterfly that leaves Canada in the mid-summer headed to Mexico is not the one that arrives, and vice versa.  The butterfly that leave Mexico and arrives in Canada is four generations monarch later.

While raising three boys in our north Jersey home, it was always our dream to have a lake house in a rural country setting. As the years passed and the boys were nearly grown, we realized that all our conversations had not led to any progress in finding our dream getaway.

I was in the pool the other day, but I would rather be swimming at Duck Harbor. My pool colleague said he was so happy he moved to Virginia; he knew right away this was where he should be. He said all the years he moved around living in different places, when he set foot here in Virginia, he knew he was home. Humph, I thought, I have lived in my share of places, and I have never been anywhere that felt like this is where I should have been all along.

The Bradshaw family history at Duck Harbor is quite a lone one My parents, Brad and Nancy, purchased the first lot from Roberta Teeple in 1975. My brother, Michael, bought the adjoining lot and then another on Schnakenberg Road that I currently call home. It was very exciting to have a home at the lake as young kids, with all the beautiful natural environment to explore.

I’ve known Chuck since I was probably 15 years old. Please don’t do the math. Suffice it to say… a long, long time. My twin brother Bob and I would walk with our cousin Allyson to the farm — no flashlights, no shoes, and sometimes no shoes or sense — and Chuck would walk up to the farm too, usually with his brother David, friends, cousin Kurt, and others. We’d all hang out and eat green apples at the farm… the kind that gave us bellyaches.

As a child, I remember going to some lake far away with my family and with my uncle Jack Crambo’s family to visit friends of his from Throop, Pennsylvania. I think the people we visited were in the old Repchak cottage and Lenny Borden’s cottage. This was in the very early 1960s. They finished building our cottage in 1963.

The Welle/Isen/Moore family first arrived at Duck Harbor Pond in 1984. Suzanne Welle and her husband, Roy Isen—then longtime Manhattan residents—still recall their first visit, marveling at the sight of a lone deer in the distance as they toured the area with Joel Hill of local sawmill fame.

This past Labor Day weekend was particularly wonderful at the Milks. We gathered for a surprise birthday party for Carl—a celebration made all the more meaningful after the sudden passing of our dear friend Jim, along with three other close friends within just six months. Their losses reminded me how important it is to celebrate every year. Whether it’s 78, 80, or beyond, each milestone is worth honoring—and we’ll gladly do it again!

Ever since my sister, Pat Harrison, asked me to write my story for this newsletter, I’ve been trying to remember my earliest memories of Duck Harbor. I have two, and they may be from the same weekend.

We first learned about Duck Harbor Pond in 1984 when Dave's childhood friend Maitland Peters called to say he had bought property on the lake. Beginning in 2008, a visit with Mait and Karen Peters became a regular summer activity for us. Our annual visits grew from one week to two weeks to three weeks long...

Back in the 1950s, there was no indoor plumbing in the small cottages that were used primarily for duck hunting on Duck Harbor Pond. Going outside to the outhouse to relieve yourself was a luxury for a hunter. It wasn't long before sanitation codes required indoor plumbing, and outhouses became a thing of the past.

My story begins in 1976, when Mario and I were dating. His sister, Charlotte, and her husband, Artie, invited us to spend the weekend at Artie’s parents’ lake house.

One of the great temptations of spending time at the lake is the idea of being there at Christmas: the glistening ice on the frozen water, the peaceful quiet of the insulating snow.

Skip met Elaine at Penn State in 1962, and they married in 1964. They spent as much time as possible at the lake during the summers, but living in Georgia, where Skip worked for Merck Chemical Company, limited their visits to Duck Harbor. Back then, the sawmill was still operating, causing the water level to drop throughout the summer.

Everyone needs a special place to retreat when life feels overwhelming. This doesn’t have to be a physical location—it could be a cherished memory or a feeling of comfort that brings peace and reminds you of better times.

Our beautiful lake and immediate surroundings are  home to all sorts of creatures, both in the water and out. Back in the 60s, opening day of trout season was, to say busy, would be a drastic understatement.

Waaaayyy back in the 1950s, my husband, Marty, and I had a friend who was asthmatic. To escape the pollen, she would retreat to the Adirondacks during peak season and invited us to join her. This became the inspiration for finding our own vacation getaway.

Our journey to Duck Harbor Pond starts with our mother, whose sister, Hazel, and her husband, Bernard, had a turkey farm "Clark Poultry" on Shady Lane just off Route 191 in Honesdale. Our Uncle Bernard claimed to know where every huckleberry bush was in Wayne County and felt the best were at Duck Harbor Pond.

Marianne and I came to the lake in 2008 to look for a cottage. While driving around, we came upon Rosemary Miller and her daughter cleaning their pontoon boat.

My name is Rick Jersey, and I’ve had the pleasure of jumping into this lake for 65 years. I caught my first sunfish when I was five. In the mid-1960s, my parents, Dorothy and Henry Brown, purchased five lots from Joel Hill—two lakefront and three in the back.