Life between the lakes, part 14

 

Deer Park has been home to more than its fair share of sunlight two of the last four days. There were two incredibly sunny days sandwiched between two overcast days. The roads have been great and there has not been a single complaint issued by anyone about the sun. 

 

The night sky has been clear, which has made for some amazing stargazing. I wish I could explain to you how different the constellations in the sky switch places and play hide and seek in the winter months, but I’ll keep trying and observing.

 

On Friday, the drive to town was 30 minutes. Last week the average drive was the better part of an hour. The local weather folks are calling what we have a “snow drought.” Look, I know I am not a lifelong Yooper but even I can feel the weather pattern doing a slow but aggressive turn. Something is brewing in the skies.

 

Last night we had a light dusting snow and this morning it was like God took a can of white spray paint and covered all the trees. There were a lot of fresh animal tracks on our morning and afternoon walks but still no major sightings.

 

Tonight it is calm, quiet and peaceful. It is a great feeling being in a place where I don’t always have to know what is going on or get consumed with anything other than what is in front of me at this moment.

 

As I stepped outside to check on the stars, the only sound I heard was a plane passing overhead, traveling to a destination which will remain unknown to me. And I’m OK with that.

Life between the lakes, part 13

 

Finding the barn.

A coupled weeks ago I stumbled across this structure on a county road south of Deer Park.

I was mesmerized by the enormous height of the building and with each step I became more intimidated. When you suddenly realize that you are trespassing every step is cautionary. When it felt like the two enormous pine trees were guarding the place, I knew it was time to leave.

Life between the lakes, part 10

This morning the snow gently fell; snow on snow on snow.

The flakes danced, swirled and hovered between where I sit and 30 feet away where the frozen lake holds steadfast under a fresh white, Christmas blanket. It is almost as if these snowflakes didn't want to land.

I’m listening to my favorite Christmas album, a little known gem by Dan Fogelberg titled “The First Christmas Morning.” I don’t know why but can only listen to it on Christmas. It contains the most beautiful version of “In the bleak midwinter” that I have ever heard.

People have asked if I get bored up here or if it’s hard being so isolated and the answer is no. Not once this Christmas season did I have to put up with the lunacy and bad behavior that is found in metropolitan areas during the holidays.

The worst thing that happened was I arrived at the post office 5 minutes late yesterday and couldn’t mail a book to a friend and my pastie couldn’t be scanned at the grocery store and I had to wait a whole three minutes! 

I am desperate to get my creativity and inspiration back and right now I have the opportunity to reflect on what has transpired in my life these last few years, put it behind me, get focused again and write again. I’ve already surpassed my total word count of the last two years and it has not yet been three weeks of work.

I am getting as much of this in as I can and while I continue to look for a house in town because it will be different when I get back into the working world.

Tonight I’m splurging with a New York strip and a few shrimp for dinner. After our walk, Jack and Needa had hot ground beef and scrambled eggs on top of their kibble. They are both resting at my feet right now. It was a good Christmas indeed.

Look up Fogelberg’s album if you want a real treat and remember the reason we celebrate this day.

The First Christmas Morning

Away in the east shines a star in the sky

That leads us to where He is born

And bearing good tidings and gifts we shall give

To Him on this first Christmas morning

Holy our journey and holy our love

That takes us to find and adore Him

And blessed the baby that sleeps in his bed

And wakes on this first Christmas morning

Alleluia

The Lord in His wisdom, the Lord in His grace

Has given to man a redeemer

To save us from sin and to show us the light

That shines on this first Christmas morning

And will shine ever each Christmas morning

Life between the lakes, part 8

 

Life between the lakes, part 8

Jack and Needa have adapted well to our new life between the lakes. I have a nice run for them outside my door and they are always eager to get up and out each morning to sniff the woods, do their business, feel the cold and rush back into our cozy cottage for a warmly prepared, custom breakfast.

Needa has a great sense of what I am doing and immediately knows when I am preparing to head out for a drive. I give her a wink and gesture toward the door, put some peanut butter in Jack’s dish to distract him and we’re gone

I know my dogs miss the social aspect of living in the city. But maybe this is the retirement they dreamed about?

It is very easy to lose track of time up here.

And I am happy to miss all the yule-tide bullshit and normal aggravations of the Christmas season I’d be feeling in Royal Oak. 

I feel no “Christmas stress” up here and I send this as a prayer and wish for all of you who might experience it this week.

Move to the UP and be my neighbor when I settle in; Jack and Needa would love to see you and I just might to as well.