Too Cold for the Sane to Swim

Bits and his Uncle Steve could not resist a few dips in the Big Lake. The rest of us, however, stayed dry on shore and searched for more pretty wet stones, only to again discover that once dry, their luster fades...the pebbles, not the boys

Leaves of Three

Kleenex weather is upon us and hoodies and hats will grace the outdoors once again. My eyes searched the foot path out towards Union Bay, scanning for the victims of the dipping temps., the first fallen leaves that signal autumn. The day was windy, but nothing short of extraordinary, as always promised with any adventure outing in the U.P.


Driftwood boats that ran aground on slate stone faces, red leaves beating out a rythm to my own heart, and stones set so purposefully, you can't deny their intended compositions; the best art gallery to visit is the one that winds through trees and stops at a rocky shoreline.

I Think I am Getting Married...

...or rather renewing my vows in 20+ years...at a state park...in an old pavilion...overlooking Lake Huron. I have way too many moments where I find an ideal location for a wedding, and have that moment like, awww shoot, I wish I hadn't already gotten married because then I could have my wedding here. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband (at least most of the time), and love my son (all the time), and really enjoyed our wedding and all the details of it, but when you find yourself sitting in an old timber pavilion, with a huge fireplace inside, surrounded by trees on three sides and overlooking Lake Huron 100 yards away along a boardwalk leading from its large cement steps, you find yourself thinking: now this would be a beautiful spot for a wedding.

P.J. Hoeft State Park has everything a big girl dreams of. The white sands, blue waters, stones, a few treasured shell fossils, one piece of lake glass, and a hugely cool timber and dune shoreline.

The pebbles seemed to make perfect compositions in the sand only to have been created by God's hand. The pencil thin lines left by the waves rolling in and out over the sand are something of a printmaker's design.

This was the best two day camping vacation. It's not really camping unless you get rained out at 6:30 in the morning and pack-up all your wet gear in the cartop, soaking your clothes straight through, while your son eats doughnuts inside the Jeep. Yay to tenting it in bear country, with a storm front moving in, and picking the lowest site in the campground.