The jagged edges of me
Clash up against fluidity;
Unrelenting shattering.
Shards of ice caught
Between land and sea
Where lines blur to reveal
Snow blankets everything.
Only the tall stand above
The war of attrition
Between the changing tides
And the bedrock beneath.
I am caught somewhere between way to busy and being too tired to reflect to put my thoughts on the page, or, in this case, on the internet. I know I have neglected my blog the last couple of days, so here is the update: I made it. I had one last final day of driving after I finished my time in Madison. But I had to have one last breakfast in this wonderful city (which is somewhat of a foodie heaven, especially for the midwest!) and stopped just outside of the captial building grounds for a great chai latte and a dark chocolate, caramel sea salt crepe from Bradbury’s. 
Driving away from my amazing aunt who was gracious enough to host me for my time in Madison and with the gorgeous capital building in my rearview mirror, I hit the road one last time.
I drove through Wisconsin up into the Upper Peninsula of Michigan where I will be staying for the next month. I saw a couple of really amazing places on my way up like Minocqua, Wisconsin. This little town surrounded by a series of wonderful lakes, crisscrossed by trestles and interwoven by a state hiking trail. How amazing is that? I totally stumbled upon it on accident while trying to take a picture of a trestle. 
The trail was a long and winding stretch of covered pathway, framed by trees and surrounded by lakes. I felt like I was weaving my way through a wonderland of lakes. 
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The trail took my breath away between the aqua green waters and the fall colored leaves. It was a great accidental side trip before I crossed over the state line into home territory, Michigan. 
I also took a few random side breaks to campgrounds, lakes, and boat launches just to sneak off the main road and find some water or fall forests to explore. 
The fall colors from Minocqua upwards were unbelievable. Colorado was a land of golden trees but here were so many shades of oranges and reds, trees the color of wine and cinnamon. I couldn’t help but laugh at the rush of exhilaration I felt every time I turned around the next corner because each view was more amazing than the last.
My final stop was at Bond Falls, a great stop that I always make on my way in or out of the UP (Upper Peninsula for all you non-midwesterners). The cascading waterfalls at Bond Falls compounded with the fall colors was the last step in total and uncontrollable excitement about being back in Michigan. 
I had made it, driving in along the rainbow of fall colors I rolled down my windows, blasted my music, and felt the cold crisp air of impending winter, knowing all the while that my heart had come home again. There is no home to me quite like going up North to the Keweenaw Peninsula. No brighter colors or stiller lake, no calmer heart to be had than when I sit on the dock next to the gentle lapping waters of the place I call home. And of course, there are no sunsets quite like the sunsets in Bootjack because every day is a beautiful day out here. There are many beautiful days to come and hopefully I can post more now that life is beginning to settle down a touch more, but for now I am staying put. No more open road for a little while but there is still adventure to be had in this quiet land. And I have every intention of not wasting a single second of my precious time up here in my home away from home.
This picture is at Pictured Rocks National Park in Northern Michigan. In a place of such pristine beauty, were the sandstone rock walls stand like monoliths looming over Lake Superior, there is wonder in everything. Most people would expect a picture of these cliffs, but my favorite shot when I was there, was not of the towering monoliths or the emerald green waters, but of the forest hidden behind it all. People will tell you where to find the most beautiful sights in places like this, but the real beauty is found in the unspoken places. Down the little untreaded paths were no ranger or tour guide will lead you. It is up to you to discover it and keep the little wonder a secret in your heart. Find your own beauty, mine lies in the forest. Where the trees are white as snow and the ground is red with fallen leaves and pines. This is were I find beauty, in the unsuspected place.
This was definitely one of my faorite pictures from my road trip to Michigan this year. There were old dock pilings that went on forever until they disappeared into the mist. The water was os placid and clear that the pilings reflected upon themselves causing a near ghostly effect.
The juxtaposition of this dead ghostly image with the fresh, new green plant growing out of it was splendid. The idea of old things growing into the new. This haunting and wonderful picture reminds me just how much I love driving across the country. You never know what sort of strange sights you will see in the most obscure of places. I wish I was out exploring instead of stressing over school. But hey, no use wishing away life, the next chances I get, I will be on the road again.
There are always things in places where they don’t really belong. Take this pear for example, left half eaten on a Lake Superior shore of an old copper smelting factory. No person for miles that could have left it there, yet it looked fresh. Not even a few hours old. Just sitting perched on the edge of a sandstone wall. How did it get there, who left it and why. It doesn’t belong but it still is. This is an ode to the things that seem out-of-place, the lone person you see standing in a moving crowd, a child’s shoe in the middle of a market place, all of the things that stand out like something colored in a world of greys, notice them before they all disappear into the ordinary.
Right near our homes in Bootjack is White City, a park on the Lake Superior with an amazing pier stretching out between the Portage Channel and the vast depths of Lake Superior. There is an interesting lighthouse at the end of the pier that some of my cousins like to jump off of; It is really high up, and the water is really cold.
My cousin brought up KT and I got some good pictures of her leaping off the lighthouse. She definitely had the best form and was the most graceful.
Others took a less graceful leap, like Doug with his flying squirrel style.
In the end the jumping style didn’t matter but the fact that they jumped. Soon I am going to get over my fear and jump it too. Till then I will have to vicariously live through my cousins.