Lake Huron
Our family enjoyed a much needed vacation last week in Michigan. I had never vacationed in Michigan, and was looking forward to enjoying the cooler weather. Our cabin was north of Toronto Canada, on Lake Huron. Driving away from Alabama and the heat wave they were experiencing, we passed through flooding in Kentucky and storms in Ohio. The heat wave followed us and our weather was in the 80’s the entire week. The camp was beautiful, right on the lake. Two swans floated right out our window every day, tempting our dog to swim out and try to catch them. The bugs were in full force, but when the wind blew they stayed down.
In my mind I had all these plans for various activities; bird watching, kayaking, exploring Mackinac Island, visiting a dark sky park, and so on. As it turned out the ferry to the island was extremely expensive, the sky was cloudy every evening and the sun sets very late anyway, the park didn’t have their kayaks out for rental this year, and the only birds I saw were the swans and a quick bald eagle flyby. It was a wonderful vacation. My joy wasn’t dependent on those activities, but came from the company. I played with my grandsons, walked on the beach with my kids, explored the town with my husband, and laughed with the entire family. Watching my kids, son in law, grands, husband, and myself getting along, joking and chatting, this was what makes life good.
My daughter was reading a book, Tom Lake, and the book talks about the play My Town. In the play the main character reflects on what is really important in life, and the answer is simply- life. The little things in life. The day to day joys, people and sunsets and blueberries and laughter. I don’t know if those were the specific things she picked in the play, but those would be my things. Sitting by a campfire and listening to a conversation about video games I didn’t understand, walking on the beach with a 4 year old who wanted to pick up every stick he saw, watching a snake carry a fish in his mouth while floating on the surf, watching the swans float and feed, these are the moments of life. The other day I was mowing my yard, and I drove the mower over to blueberry bushes to eat a few berries. When I did that I realized I was living my dream life. It really is that simple.
In my hiking I would be sleeping at Laurel Creek Shelter near Newport or Blacksburg Virginia. I look at my map and am amazed at how much of the trail is left ahead of me. I wonder if through hikers ever feel the same way. I’m sure they do. I hope the people out hiking the trail remember to enjoy the small things, the day to day life of trail hiking, in the same way I am trying to enjoy and remember the small and day to day joys of life.
July 10 22.78 675.78 Laurel Creek Shelter in VA
