Cross-Posting

I hate to self-promote, but for anyone who follows one or both of my blogs, Life in All Its Glory and this one, I am planning on making both active once again. In light of the health issues that I've experienced since moving here, I've decided to use my other journal in the way it was originally intended-as a place to record the trials of sorting out an ongoing health issue, with the intention of maybe sharing some insights that could prove useful to someone experiencing the same thing.

I hope to continue using this journal as a record of our life and experiences of living in one of the most beautiful places in this country, if not on earth (beauty being, arguably, in the eye of the beholder). While there have been some cross-posts, I hope to keep most entries to either one true to the overall theme.

So, I apologize for the inconvenience, but if you're interested enough, I would invite you to peruse both. Oh, and if you prefer some occasionally insane (but mostly lame) commentary on the political landscape and contemporary culture, I invite you to read yet another journal, Ranting Against the Status Quo. Hopefully, you'll find something you like among the refuse.

'Tis the Season (Apparently)

This has been a most frustrating week. Rita and I have both been sick with a: 1)cold; 2)virus; 3)seasonal allergy thing; 4) any or all of the above. From what I see among my Facebook friends, this doesn't appear to be a local phenomenon. Wanting and needing to work and take care of the necessary tasks, but being unable because if your body is not snotting, it is too exhausted to do anything but lie around adds to the frustration. However, this too, will pass, and it can't go away any time too soon.

I think it's mostly attributable to the usual viral outbreaks that start showing up this time of year. But I also suspect there might be an allergy component as well, because this hasn't shown any signs of bacterial type infection, just gallons of clear mucus. (To those with weak stomachs, I apologize for the description; I think I made my point, so there won't be any more). Given that we have only been here a year, I think my immune system may not have transitioned to a new set of allergens. In order to find out, I'm going to see an allergist and have him run some tests.

Doubly frustrating is that the weather here has been beautiful, unlike what I have seen in Arkansas on the national weather maps. The colors are beginning to change on the trees and shrubs, and peak should come in the next two or three weeks. This is not a time to be cooped up in the house.

Priceless

I decided Rita and I were going to enjoy at least a little of the Labor Day weekend. So, Sunday afternoon we hit the road for the Lelenau Peninsula once again. We stopped off at the Point Betsie Lighthouse on the Lake Michigan coast, so that Rita could dip her feet in the sand and the lake. Then we continued further up the coast to Leland, also known as Fishtown. After a pretty good burger at the Bluebird Tavern and Restaurant (I don't know what it is about burgers from bars or taverns, but they seem to be exceptional), we walked over, got a couple of decaf coffees and a Cherry Republic cookie which we split, and then proceeded to stroll down to the waterfront at the harbor to watch the sun set over Lake Michigan and the Manitou Islands. Priceless. I wouldn't trade it for any other locale on this continent or any other. A fitting close to the "official" end of the summer season.

As We Approach the End of Our First Year in Cadillac

In about two weeks, we will celebrate our first anniversary of our move to Cadillac. We have now experienced all four of the seasons in Michigan (more or less; more on that in a moment). As with most things in life, we have had ups and downs, but most of it has been very, very positive.

I'm sitting here looking out the window as I type this, watching it rain on a Friday night. This being the opening night for most of the local football teams, and I would much rather be here than there. It has not been much of a summer from a weather standpoint: we seem to have gone from prolonged spring directly into an early fall. The weekend forecast is for rain and 60's, with a possibility of some early frost the first of the week. Even for northern Michigan, this is incredible. While we have enjoyed the cooler weather much of the summer, there have been some hot, muggy days just to remind us that it is, indeed, summer time. I think the week our kids and grandkids were here was probably the nicest weather we have had all summer.

Most of the flowers in our garden have faded and died, although a few diehards still lend a dash of color here and there. While we have no crops to harvest, there is still gardening tasks that need to be done, in preparation for a rebirth next spring. We have been pleasantly surprised by our garden, as we really had no idea what to expect. There is, however, plenty of room for improvement; we could easily work at this for the next several years.

Rita and I walked down to the pavilion at the park (right on the lakeshore) last night for the last jazz concert of the summer. The group was comprised of a bunch of music teachers, active and retired, from New York, and every one had some serious chops. It got dark earlier than the previous concerts, and it was a little chilly by the end, but it was still wonderful. We look forward to next year's concerts. There's something amazing about a warm summer night, good jazz music, and watching the sunset over the lake; it's a breath of refreshment to the soul.

I still marvel at how blessed we have been since being here. The kids now understand, but they just barely scratched the surface of this marvelous place. I hope that the next time they're here (we just planted the seed of an idea about a possible return in October), we'll be able to introduce them to many more of the wonders. I like to think that perhaps we could become a sort of haven for our family, a place to come and renew, because this is a magic land.

For us, this is a place to call home.

Life's Amazing Blessings

Most of the people who know me, and know me well, are aware of a certain tendency toward, well, shall we say, "wanderlust." Having never lived anywhere longer than a couple of years since I left home to go to college in Searcy, Arkansas, that particular label (or accusation, if you prefer) is entirely accurate. I suppose there are a few of us who never really seem to find their place in this world, maybe because what we seek cannot be found here. So, while we may find somewhere that closely approximates our ultimate desired destination, it will never be completely satisfying.

I say all that in order to say this: it has been almost a year now since we moved to Cadillac, Michigan. While it is not Heaven, for my purposes, northwestern lower Michigan is just about as close as I am likely to get to it here. My spirit has found a peace here that it has been sorely lacking for some time. I feel as though I have finally come "home", at least in this life. The incredible natural beauty here has resonated in my soul, and I find no need to look elsewhere for satisfaction.

A couple of things which happened this week helped me realize just how blessed we are. Our son Jared and his family were here visiting (including the best two grandkids on the planet). Unlike the Christmas visit, which was marked by constant illness and a little too much snow to enjoy, this was a very fun week. The weather was almost perfect, and we had lots of opportunities to be outside revelling in it. However, there was one particular instance that became the "blessing moment."

Last Thursday evening, the kids announced that they'd like to see Lake Michigan, having already experienced some of the lesser bodies of water in our neighborhood. So we took a little road trip to Manistee, some 45 minutes west of Cadillac, and went to the beach. The reactions were priceless.

My grandson Liam hit the ground running, had his shoes off just after he crossed the parking lot/beach barrier, and ultimately ended up soaking wet from throwing himself into the lake. My granddaughter, on the other hand, just barely cleared the parking lot before she plopped down and had two handfuls of sand. My daughter-in-law Trische proved to be the best of all; upon surveying the quarter mile of beach from the playground to the lake, she asked, "Did they have to bring all of this in?" (she lives in Arkansas, where that is the norm for beach formation).

Standing on the beach, at sunset, watching a flock of gulls flying out toward the big lake, seeing the fishing boats out on the horizon trolling for salmon and lake trout, looking at the lighthouse at the mouth of the river, it suddenly hit me. What a privilege it is to be able to live in a place like this; I am deeply honored to be able to do so.

The feeling was reinforced as I followed the Facebook postings of some friends from Michigan, now living in Searcy, who were vacationing here. They started back to Arkansas the same time the kids and grandkids did. But before that, their posts spoke of the fantastic weather, the beauty of Traverse City, and how great it was to be back in Michigan. And I thought how true all of that was, and how wonderful it is to enjoy it every day, and not have to return to it once a year or so.

There is nothing quite like this place. It has big water, beautiful shorelines, beaches, forests, rivers, lakes. In addition to the amazing natural beauty, my corner of the world has interesting little towns, big towns, and everything in between, each of which has its own unique character. The history of the area would take a lifetime to ponder and explore; its lighthouses, ships and trains, the lumbermen and the fishermen. All of it strikes a chord within my heart and mind; this is my state. My family is tied to this area, as much as it is to Detroit.

Short of what I seek as my final destination, this is my home. I hope to stay here for a very long time.

We All Must Find Our Place in the World

Our kids made it home from China just before the 4th of July, and are busy settling into the rest of their lives, apparently within the confines of New York City. Their reasons for that decision can be found here. While I certainly respect their decision, and am thrilled to have them several thousand miles closer, I am also amused at how different members of the same family can be. Maybe it's a generational thing, as our other two kids also seem to have a yearning for the excitement of big city life. Or maybe it's the fact that I grew up in the suburbs of a fairly large city and, having vacated that setting several years ago, decided I'd left nothing behind.

There has always been something about northern Michigan which called to my spirit for as long as I can remember. Some of my most enduring childhood memories are those of visiting my grandparents in the Mackinaw City area (for you non-Michiganders, pull out your map, or your hand, whichever is more convenient; Mackinaw City is at the tip of the middle finger, about as far north as you can get in the Lower Peninsula). More open space, much cooler weather, room to roam; these are a few of the reasons why a visit was so special. My grandparents have been gone for several years, but the tug of Up North still holds a spell over me.

I have had the privilege of living in at least two other states, and travelling to a few different countries, all of which has shaped my world view, as well as providing a certain comfort level when dealing with different cultures (the first major culture clash was a northern kid trying not to embarrass himself too badly at a small college in Arkansas; results were mixed). But when all is said and done, I appreciate the opportunity to return to my roots.

My son Nathan decided on New York City because he wanted to live in a place with at least two million people, where he didn't need a car, and where he wouldn't get bored. Fair enough; given those criteria, I think he made a good choice. I may even persuade myself to visit some day after he gets settled, but I wouldn't feel as though my life were incomplete if I didn't. My ideas of a high "quality of life" environment are quite different. (By the way, I have a brother who still lives in the 'burbs of Detroit, and the similarities of thought between Nathan and him are rather eerie).

Northwestern Michigan, like New York, has a great deal of diversity, albeit in a much different way. It is much more laid-back, wide open spaces, but with a few of the amenities you wouldn't expect in a small-town, rural setting. During the summer, we have jazz concerts at the pavilion by the lake, as well as other musical groups on other nights. This week, there will be an art fair at the park and pavilion. While the "arts scene" is pretty pedestrian by big city standards, nonetheless it is surprising to find in a town the size of Cadillac.

But what drew me to this area was the incredible natural beauty of the region. It is fairly diverse, with rolling terrain, incredible vistas, and amazing natural formations. One of the most interesting is the Sleeping Bear Dunes, now a federally protected National Lakeshore, shown above. (Click on the pictures to see a larger version; the people give you a better sense of scale) Add the incredible colors that appear in the fall, and you begin to understand the appeal to someone that loves natural beauty and the great outdoors.

I also feel a "connectedness" to this state and region. For as long as I can remember, I have been fascinated by the Great Lakes, with all of their maritime history. I have become interested in the various lighthouses along the Michigan waterways, as well as the history of northwestern Michigan and its towns. Sadly, I opted out of studying Michigan history in high school, choosing instead to take World History, to my detriment. I hope to rectify some of that over the next few years.

A good day for me would be a drive up to Mission Point or the Leelanau peninsula, stopping somewhere along the lakeshore, or maybe at one of several farms or wineries to see what they have to offer. Perhaps a trip out to Leelanau State Park, on the northern tip of the peninsula, to visit the Grand Traverse Lighthouse and enjoy the wildness of the shoreline, returning through Northport to watch the sailboats and then to Suttons Bay for another great burger at the Village Inn. Or maybe this fall, a drive through the Manistee Forest to Sleeping Bear Dunes, for a hike on the dunes and a spectacular view of Lake Michigan and the Manitou Islands. If you aren't familiar with any of these places, come on up; I'd love to introduce you.

To some, this probably doesn't have the allure of a Broadway play, dinner at a world-famous restaurant, or even a stroll through Central Park, but to me, it's the place where I belong.

Finding My Way Home

 

The weather here in northern Michigan is finally beginning to be what the weather forecasters call "seasonal". The past couple of days have been sunny and in the 70's. I feel fairly safe in declaring that we won't have any more snow until at least October.

Although it has been a while since I visited this space, life has not been uneventful. The seasons have changed, and Rita and I have been discovering some of the treasures that lie within a couple hours' drive time. The weather hasn't always been cooperative; last weekend was rather overcast and windy, making it rather cool. But we are discovering what a joy- and a privilege- living in northern Michigan can be.

Over the past several weekends, we have spent at least one day traveling part of the Lake Michigan shoreline. As of right now, we have covered the entire shoreline from Muskegon to Northport, down to Traverse City, and from there to Charlevoix and Petoskey. (If you don't have a map, try this: hold your right hand in front of you, palm facing you. Starting at about the middle of the edge of the palm opposite the thumb, trace a line along the edge, up around the little finger, down to the palm, and up the third finger almost to the end. That's the part of the shoreline we're talking about).

With each trip that we make, we discover more jewels, disguised as small towns, farms, vineyards, and natural landscapes. More importantly, I have reawakened a part of me that always ached to live in northern Michigan. There is so much here- incredible natural beauty, interesting little towns, each with its own fascinating history, and a grand variety of fresh produce. The small towns still have that "small town" feeling about them, and the people are refreshingly friendly. It's almost like being on a permanent vacation; you can get almost anywhere in the upper half of the lower peninsula with a two, or maybe three, hour drive.

I would invite our friends in Arkansas (not those who are really ex-pats from Michigan-you already know what I'm saying) to seriously consider coming up to visit, preferably in the summer. We can more than hold our own against any natural beauty found almost anywhere else. There are beautiful drives along the shorelines, long sandy beaches that rival any found in the Gulf of Mexico ( a T-shirt I saw yesterday says it all- "no sharks, no salt, no worries"), and opportunities to camp and hike in some absolutely breathtaking natural settings. 

I have a particular interest in the history of the Great Lakes and the ships that sailed them. The lighthouses of Michigan also intrigue me, as there are something like 70 or 80 lights and lighthouses that exist or are in active service around the state. I have begun collecting models of the various lighthouses, and taking pictures as we visit them. Usually the scenery is as spectacular as the history is interesting.  The picture above is taken looking north from the Point Betsie lighthouse; it shows the southern tip of the Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes National Lakeshore. It is a natural formation which runs for about 30 miles along Lake Michigan shoreline, and it takes your breath away the first time you see it.

As opportunity permits, I plan to continue my weekend "mini-vacations", as each week brings new discoveries. The most pleasing discovery is that I have come as close to home as anyone can be this side of heaven.