Once upon a time when I was very, very small, my grandparents purchased a little pink cottage near Port Huron, Michigan. As the years passed, I spent more and more time at the cottage, until I was spending entire summers there.
It was during those summers that I developed a love of flower gardening. My grandma taught me how to pull weeds, transplant daylillies, deadhead daisies, and so many things that are imbedded, but I can't specifically remember. My grandpa taught me all about big lake fishing off a dock. (I can still bait a hook and clean a fish with the big boys!) He also taught me how to safely identify and pick mushrooms and wild berries, and the proper way to carve birchwood whistles. But my favorite thing to do during the summer was walk the half mile down the dirt road with my grandparents to the beach off of Lake Huron.
It scares me to think back about how I would swim out over my head in that big lake. I didn't know about under-tows back then, and I always felt safe when Grandpa was around. I do remember him rescuing me a couple of times. After the second time, I was sternly warned to never go out beyond the sand bar.
I will eventually post some old photos from the olden days when I get my scanner working. But for now, I am posting some photos and a video clip from our visit to that same beach taken during our trip to Michigan. It feels so strange but wonderful to see my children in that same spot, with my childhood spirit running along side of them. The spirit of energy, wonder, and fearlessness, back before I understood the facts of adulthood, grief, and that not everybody was nice like my family.
