Dennis and Grace are still asleep when I hike down to the beach.
On the way, I see my first cedar waxwing.
The beach is deserted, and I am alone with the sand and sky and water.
We promised Grace a lazy day with no hiking. But then we tell her of another falls and a lighthouse, and she’s all in for a three-mile “walk,” especially when we say she can take along a Littlest Pet Shop critter.
We stop to snap a picture of the Methodist Church (I beg to stay longer to visit on Sunday), and then we drive about 12 miles to the Hurricane River Campground.
We don slickers in the drizzle and keep our eyes on threatening clouds and ears tuned to occasional sky boomers.
We linger a moment at the place where the river flows into Lake Superior.
On the way to the falls, Grace points out Y’s in the trees and tells me how much my friend would love them.
It’s an easy flip-flop walk along the ridge to the lighthouse. The lake to our left churns around the rocks. We head down the steps to the beach and walk past the skeletal remains of shipwrecks.
It’s a sober reminder that floating in deep water is often the safest.
How our lives can be shattered if we don’t keep our eyes on the Light.
This is a particularly dangerous stretch of what’s known as the Graveyard Coast because of the shoal that stretches out about a mile and is only six feet deep in places. Ships often “coasted” with land in sight, so a sudden storm or thick fog could spell sudden danger.
We visit the Au Sable Light station on its 137th birthday. It went into operation on August 19, 1874.
We take a ranger-guided tour through the living quarters and wind our wrought-iron way up to the light.
We learn about the importance of the light and the role of the keeper.
Cedar waxwings frolic everywhere.
We’ve missed lunch so we stop for an early dinner at the West Side Diner and Deli–where the ceilings are tin, and fishing lures hang overhead.
The owner has just published her debut novel, South of Superior.
We’re sad because this will be our last meal here. We have to start for home tomorrow.
But then I remember I have my own novel to work on and a conference to attend.
And we walk the beach one last time.
Sandy,
Thank you for this. I enjoyed tagging along on your adventure, and the reminder to stay in the deep and keep my eyes on the light is especially timely.
You blessed me.
Oh, so fun to sneak a peek at all your fun times. I love the photos of the lighthouse and the diner. Well, all of them! Thanks, Snady-girl!
Sandra, I’ve been enjoying your G-Ma and Grace posts so much! Gorgeous photos. What beautiful memories you are building together. 🙂
Your Grace makes me smile. I love her wise, Ys eyes. 🙂
Some years back, we spent a week in the Frankfort-Traverse City-Charleroi area. This is bringing back all those memories. Great photos.
I always hate to head home, and then I am always glad to be home. I guess that is where balance comes in. We need a little bit of both. I love your photos and story, Sandra. Thank you for allowing us to come along. (I love those old diners.)
My son has attended very artist events around Grand Marais … it’s a spectacular place.
Thank you for carrying me along on your adventures. We are far from the Great Lakes here in landlocked prairies at the foot of the Rockies — and hailing from Toronto, I miss the water!
So appreciated this opportunity to feel the wonder and joy and serenity you shared.
Hi Sandy –
Sorry I’ve been A.W.O.L. Preparing for and attending a conference kept me busy for many weeks.
Loved your post! I feel like a visited the area with you, Dennis, and Gracie. 🙂
Blessings,
Susan
Looks like a lovely and luscious day. You can’t get any better than waterfalls, lighthouses and grandchildren.