“Travel, in the younger sort, is a part of education; in the elder, a part of the experience.”
—Francis Bacon
Actually, I think for those of us who qualify as elders, there is also an educational element. I cannot count the times during this trip when either John or I have said, “I didn’t expect…” There are so many things we’ve learned, mostly about landscapes.
But Bacon was right. The experience has been the major part of our journey. All of our senses have been awakened in ways we may have foreseen, but couldn’t possibly have appreciated in advance. We’ve seen waterfalls and rainbows, felt the weight of different kinds of rocks, sampled wines from many regions and compared their tastes, smelled the salt air and the pungency of farm country, and heard the barks of sea lions and the calls of birds we couldn’t identify. And that only scratches the surface of the experiences we’ve had. And we still have a week left of our journey!
Today was a day of hard driving, making the trek from Sioux Falls, South Dakota, across all of Minnesota, to Green Bay, Wisconsin. Because we spent most of our time in the car, I don’t really have much to share in the way of pictures. Because I slept a lot in the car, I don’t even really have many thoughts to share. It’s been a marvelous trip so far, and I have so much to process that I will likely be unpacking it for months after we get home. But tonight my brain is in a bit of a fog and needs rest. And, honestly, I don’t think I need to feel too bad about calling it a night and getting a little sleep. Maybe you need a break, too…
“It is in vain for you to rise up early, to stay up late, eating the bread of toil; for he gives sleep to his loved ones.” —Psalm 127:2
I’ve been on the road now for about five weeks. I’ve observed several things about myself. Most of them are just beginning to sink in. (Perhaps some of you have known these things about me all along. I can be a bit thick sometimes. Please be patient with me. 😛 ) The question now is what difference these observations will make once I return to “normal” life. I suppose time will tell, won’t it?
Today was a day of recovery, largely, from the last couple of tiring days. I suspect I feel more refreshed because, for the first time in over a week, my day began with Mass. I was blessed to worship at St. Francis Xavier Cathedral in Green Bay, Wisconsin. Having quiet and praying the Daily Office on my own is good, and even necessary. But it is no substitute for being fed in Holy Communion. So my first observation has to do with the necessity of attending Mass. There simply is no substitute…and I can easily take the privilege for granted.
After Mass, we drove to the Shrine of Our Lady of Good Help in Champion, Wisconsin. There were not many people there when we arrived. In fact, for a time, we had the gardens to ourselves. This place is uncomplicated and peaceful. It is out in the middle of farm country and even smells a bit like a farm. Here I was reminded how much I have come to treasure simplicity and quiet. The peace of places like this seeps into my soul and heals something deep inside. I am learning that, when I return, I need to seek out such places to visit on a regular basis.
We spent the afternoon driving along the shore of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula en route from Green Bay, Wisconsin to Petosky, Michigan. For much of the afternoon we had wonderful views across Lake Michigan. I began to think about how water has been a sort of theme for this trip, even in the desert where water is a rarity. And I’m beginning to realize just how very much I love being near water. Whether it is meandering in a stream, cascading over a waterfall, or lapping on a shoreline, it is mesmerizing. It comforts and soothes, but also refreshes. Where can I be near water at home? Is there perhaps a place for a small fountain or koi pond? Would I even be able to care for something like this? Hmmm… Something to consider…
Late this afternoon we crossed the Mackinac Bridge. First I learned that I’ve been pronouncing it all wrong. Apparently, it’s “Mak-i-naw”, even when it’s spelled with a “c” at the end. Soo… I guess I’m not as smart as I thought I was. 😉
More importantly, though, John pointed out that I am no longer nervous crossing bridges, as I have been for most of my life. The Mackinac Bridge is longer than the Golden Gate, which I also crossed with no problem. In fact, I had fun on both bridges. So I’ve observed that I’ve begun to confront some of my fears and they no longer have the hold on me that they once did. I appear to be, slowly but surely, being transformed.
While we were stopped somewhere along Lake Michigan’s shore, I picked up a few smooth rocks to bring home for my garden. I realized, again, how much I enjoy the solidity and the variations of simple rocks. There’s something about holding them, perhaps the way they absorb the warmth of the sun, or even the warmth of my hand. There’s something about the fact that they are ancient, and have survived the ravages of time. In fact, often it is time that has exposed their inner beauty. They remind me that, solid as they seem, they, and all of creation, are changeable and temporary. Only our God is eternally steadfast.
“For who is God, but the Lord? And who is a rock, except our God?— the God who equipped me with strength and made my way blameless. He made my feet like the feet of a deer and set me secure on the heights.” —Psalm 18:31-33
“I had forgotten how rich and beautiful is the countryside – the deep topsoil, the wealth of great trees, the lake country of Michigan handsome as a well-made woman, and dressed and jeweled. It seemed to me that the warmth was generous and outgoing here in the heartland, and perhaps the people took a cue from it.”
—John Steinbeck
I have greatly enjoyed our travels, all the landscapes we have traversed, all the people we have met, all the wonders we have seen. But I must say that it is good to be back in territory so similar to my home. Michigan, at least around the shores of Lake Michigan, is a land of small towns, small farms, and small businesses. The people we’ve met are warm and friendly, from Vivian who we met yesterday at the Michigan Welcome Center, to Dorothy at Coveyou Scenic Farm Market in Petosky where we shopped this morning, to Allie and Bill and Hailey and Hiro who hosted us at various wine tastings on Old Mission Peninsula. Even people walking along roadways waved at our car as we drove by.
We’ve talked more than once on our trip about how we simply can’t experience everything. We need to just pick a place and let ourselves sort of sink into it, absorbing everything we can. Today we spent several hours just soaking in Old Mission Peninsula near Traverse City, Michigan. And the few hours we had weren’t nearly enough. I didn’t want to leave, and I’m looking forward to coming back.
Old Mission Peninsula is nineteen miles long and 3 miles wide. It divides Lake Michigan’s Grand Traverse Bay into eastern and western portions. It is covered in (mostly) small picturesque lake houses at its southern end and farms of cherry orchards and vineyards over its northern half. There is a lighthouse and park at its northern tip. Water is visible from almost everywhere on the peninsula.
Spring has just begun to arrive on Old Mission Peninsula. Daffodils and tulips are in bloom. The cherry trees are just starting to open their blossoms. And dandelions are in full bloom in the vineyards between the rows. Viola Shipman wrote, “If I had to describe the scent of Michigan in spring and summer, it wouldn’t be a particular smell – blooming wildflowers or boat exhaust off the lake – it would be a color: green.” Yes!! I was struck many times today by the brilliant spring green of the fields and orchards.
The area is known for its cherries. They won’t be ready until July, but folks in this area have preserved their cherries in every conceivable way to be enjoyed all year long. There are the usual collections of cherry jams, jellies, and preserves, on their own or mixed with other fruits, along with salsas, sauces, and dressings. Cherries are dried and mixed with blueberries, cranberries, and nuts or covered in chocolate. Cherry condiments are plentiful, such as the cherry honey mustard I picked up at the farmers market. We sampled cherry wine, cherry port, and cherry cider. I even bought a bag of potato chips coated in cherry barbecue sauce. Delicious! My list just scratches the surface of amazing ways cherries are used here.
The landscape and its bounty have made
me ponder, once again, the incredible generosity of our God. He
doesn’t have to bless us with such beauty. He doesn’t have to
feed us with such delicious food. But He delights to do so.
I stumbled across this quote from Lynn Austin that seems to sum up what I am thinking as my day near Lake Michigan comes to a close:
“I’ve seen spring come to the orchard every year as far back as I can remember and I’ve never grown tired of it. Oh, the wonder of it! The outrageous beauty! God didn’t have to give us cherry blossoms you know. He didn’t have to make apple trees and peach trees burst into flower and fragrance. But God just loves to splurge. He gives us all this magnificence and then, if that isn’t enough, He provides fruit from such extravagance.”
