We are “up north” again.
We’ve come to pick up my son’s car, left here since his honeymoon when he crashed it.
(I still plan to post some wedding pictures. Here’s a peek.)
We’ve decided to make a weekend out of it.
Friday Night Live has taken over Front Street in Traverse City, and we wander up and down the street, stop to listen to jazz and country performers.
We sip fresh-squeezed lemonade and sample grape leaves and spinach wraps, and I buy a Lake Michigan Unsalted hoodie and a couple bamboo-soy T’s.
I sneak some conversation snaps for The High Calling’s Photoplay prompt.
We marvel at some hollyhocks, and Dennis tells me that they once surrounded our now-deceased barn, and I make note to plant some next to the garage.
On Saturday we delight in the quaint little town of Alden. I’ve lived here most of my life and never heard of it.
It’s a little village nestled next to Torch Lake, said to be National Geographic’s pick for the third most beautiful lake in the world.
Surely that’s true, because the water reminds us of the Caribbean.
We drive around to the south tip of the lake (it’s 18 miles long and the longest inland lake in Michigan) and walk out into the clearest water ever.
I linger behind Dennis, fascinated by chicken-wire scintillations created as the sun reflects on the sand through the gentle waves. We go maybe a third of a mile out, and the water is not even up to my neck. Further out, though, the deep blue signals the deep.
Later that evening we ride bikes–18 miles he pushes me–on the Leelanau Trail through woods and country, past old barns and a red schoolhouse and a trail-side treehouse. We try to identify the green scents and peppery fragrances. We fight off deer flies.
And on Sunday morning, we find ourselves afoot in the Sand Lakes Quiet Area.
We’re surrounded by green and silence.
Not even a bird song until we go deep.
Dennis walked this path years ago while I was in conference meetings, and he saw a porcupine just off to his right.
So we tread slow.
But there’s just us and tiny butterflies and little green worms and blue dragonflies and a couple breaking camp next to one of the lakes.
And I am sad to miss the third week of sermons that reflect on Crazy Love.
But I’ve experienced it this “up north” weekend.
His art, His handiwork, and His creation all echo the truth that He is glorious. ~Francis Chan in Crazy Love
Thursday note: I’m linking this post up with Faith Barista Bonnie who asks “How Are You Finding Beauty in Everyday Life?” Because for me it’s stopping. It’s opening my eyes to colors and angles and the artistry of His creation and capturing those images with my almost-big-girl-camera. Every day.