Refuge and Renewal on Lake George

It’s the fireflies, and the stars, that get me every time. Those winking lights, bobbing along the ground and filling up the night sky with their impossible density, signal an alternate reality to the artificially haloed urban evening I’m accustomed to in the San Francisco Bay Area. In this little corner of the Adirondack Mountains, other signals — cellphone, for one, or car headlights — are spotty, or altogether absent.