While Katie and I were up north we happened across a wildflower garden that had attracted a lot of monarch butterflies.
You may or may not know that the monarchs are endangered and oh so delicate. It was good to see many of them enjoying the garden on the shores of Lake Michigan.
I felt privileged to have been there while they were lunching.
Yesterday, during our last day of adventuring, Katie and I stopped for a few minutes in Mackinaw City, located at the northern tip of the lower peninsula of Michigan. There’s a 5 mile bridge between the lower and upper peninsula of our state, built in the 50s, and in the park at the base of the bridge is a sculpture dedicated to the iron workers that worked on the bridge as it was being built.
The sculpture of the iron worker showcases many of the tools needed to do the work, the details making it particularly interesting. When we saw it we just knew it would be perfect for Cee’s challenge this week!
I’m retired, so one day is pretty much like another. Weekends have no real significance, and Monday is now my favorite day of the week because most of you go back to work and I don’t have to.
Welcome to the 2018 Woodward Dream Cruise!
I know. That’s just cruel.
But then again sometimes weekends are filled with so many fun things that I actually am sorry to see them end. Like this past one.
It started out with me volunteering on a campaign for a woman who is running for Congress in my district. Our district has been represented in Congress by one party for as far back as I can remember. This year there’s a serious contender, a woman with military experience, who has worked for the Pentagon and was willing to sit with my husband and I for over an hour discussing truck safety issues.
It’s unique.
She’s got my vote.
So, though I am not political and have never worked on a campaign before, Saturday morning found me sitting in a small stuffy room with several other people my age, all of us peering through our bifocals at our laptops as a young campaign worker explained the data entry project we volunteered to help with.
Good to have a matching umbrella to ward off the sun.
She was so patient with us as we fumbled through connecting to their WiFi, stumbled over the password, then tried to understand the data entry program. Never once did she roll her eyes, though I have to admit I did at least once.
Lots of color and detail.
Turns out she had just graduated from high school, and was taking a gap year before she went to college just to work on this campaign. Amazing. She was nineteen and had the ability to make us not feel stupid when we asked questions as we worked through the huge pile of reports filed with information from volunteers out canvasing neighborhoods.
It wasn’t restricted to just cars.
Her enthusiasm was contagious and we willingly worked past the time we originally committed to get the job done.
And to reward myself for sitting in that small room straining my eyes for hours I took myself to the Woodward Dream Cruise that was happening in a town not so far away.
There was plenty for sale if you caught the car bug.
If you’re asking what that is, well, you’re not from around here.
In the old days, on Friday and Saturday nights the locals would drive their muscle cars up and down Woodward Avenue, through and between several towns. These days, for one weekend every August, people come from all over the country, some bringing their antique muscle cars, to do the same.
Muscle from the old days.
The streets are lined with people who enjoy watching the beautiful cars go by. Parking lots are filled with more of the vehicles.
Lots of money in this lot next door to the Porsche dealership.
They’re everywhere.
Back in the neighborhood a few blocks away from the main drag.
I fell in love with this pair of vehicles.
There’s a sort of elegance that most cars today lack. I guess we’re more functional and less stylish these days.
I enjoyed wandering around, though I walked less than one mile down Woodward Avenue, and spent maybe an hour there. I loved taking pictures of old cars, the lines so beautiful, the colors so vibrant.
Hard to miss this one!
Anyway. That was Saturday. Sunday a college friend and I went kayaking at my favorite park.
Spending Sunday morning on a lake. Perfect.
We rented kayaks there, for only $8 an hour. We told the (very) young lady there we’d be out for an hour at most, after all we were old. She smiled politely.
Pretty.
We were out for 2 hours and I’m not even sore this morning. Pretty good for a couple of old broads!
Two hours later the skies began to cloud.
And I slept out in the backyard in the tent all weekend too, getting geared up to take at least one camping trip this summer…before summer slides away!
Katie says she hasn’t gone on one camping trip all summer. She says that’s unacceptable. I have to agree.
Stay tuned.
These looked fun too, maybe next time!
Many years ago I was visiting a friend up in Northport, Michigan. We were out taking pictures, mostly in the woods and along the lake shore. But we also stopped in town where I noticed this interesting shop window and grabbed a shot without even leaving the car.
Can you find the reflection?
The perfect campsite; shade but no mud!
But what was the perfect location?
Why, the farm where my mom grew up; the place I, as a kid, hung out in barns playing with the farm cats, or pretended to drive a tractor down the lane, while sitting on my uncle’s lap.
The backs of some of the barns, across a soybean field.
I have so many special memories of the farm and my grandparents, my aunt and uncle, my cousins.
Morning sun makes the barns glow.
So I was grateful to get permission to camp Saturday and Sunday nights near the back of the farm, in what used to be the orchard. Today it’s a beautiful mowed area with a mulberry tree, beautiful oak trees and a couple of very old pear trees, heavy with fruit. The whole area is surrounded by soybean fields, giving me long vistas to watch the sky.
Morning light on a misty soybean field.
If only the sky would cooperate. I had high hopes as I watched the sun set behind a neighboring barn.
Sunset on the first evening.
Saturday night I saw one meteor, just as I stuck my head out of the tent about 11:00 p.m. I set up the camera and messed with the settings for a bit.
There were more planes than meteors . There are two planes in this shot.
Behind me I could hear thunder. Above me the sky was rapidly becoming cloud covered, the weather front directly overhead.
Clouds begin to encroach on my night.
I ducked back into the tent moments before the first rain hit, and then listened as the storm wound up to pouring rain and gusty winds. At one point I considered running for the car, but figured I’d get soaked just getting out of the tent.
The storm pushed away around 1:30 in the morning and I settled in to sleep. No more sky watching for the rest of that night.
Sunday morning was damp with fog. Everything was dripping but the sunrise was pretty.
Sunrise, spectacular in a quiet sort of way.
I spent the day with visiting cousins, catching up, enjoying meals, and the production of West Side Story.
A pretty nice set for the story of the Jets and the Sharks.
By early evening I was heading back to my camp hoping for a re-do of the night before. It turns out they had rain while I was gone, and steam was rising up from the ground while water dripped from the trees. A little after 9 p.m. I could see ground fog coming my way across the soybean fields. Soon my entire campsite was surrounded in white mist.
Still, the sky seemed clear.
I tried again, but the fog and lights from the city made most of the stars disappear. Mostly what was visible was a planet to the south. So I worked with that for a little bit and then tucked myself into my tent and slept the rest of the night listening to the night noises.
See that planet up there above the tent? There’s a star or two too.
Monday morning arrived dripping wet. I wandered down the lane toward the barns I remember so well. It was early and I didn’t want to disturb the tenants living in the old farmhouse.
Lots of roof lines.
I quietly walked through the wet grass remembering playing in the corn crib, remembering the pigs streaming out of the barn doors, remembering where there once was a watering trough, a fence. A gate.
Ingenuity.
So many memories.
No I didn’t see a lot of meteors shooting across the sky, just three total over the two nights. But that’s alright. As I packed up the soggy tent and headed home, I was grateful for the connection to my mom on her birthday, and grateful for two nights on the farm.
A good couple of nights on the farm.
A big thanks to my cousin for graciously allowing me to camp in the old orchard of the farm he now owns. Thanks to him, too, for keeping the farm in the family and preserving so many memories for all of us.
The whole experience was priceless.
An original fence post.
Angry bird
Nancy Merrill Photography is sending out challenges now, and when I saw this week’s I knew I had one particular image that showed a certain amount of attitude.
On my way up to the Pigeon River State Forest, three hours away from home, I drove through some of my favorite farm country. Both on the drive up and the drive home four days later I was lucky enough to witness clouds building above beautiful farm country.
I knew you’d want to see (who doesn’t want to look at barns, right?) so I put together a little slide show.
And even though I know these pink flowers are not native, and are in fact, invasive I couldn’t help but stop and grab a few photos because they’re just so darn pretty.
Pretty but invasive.
How can this be invasive?
We did score the best campsite in all of the Pigeon River Forest, nestled next to the river in all it’s gurgling glory. We could have sat there all day, but there was more to explore.
There’s a large elk heard residing in this park, with certain locations where you’re more likely to see them. We drove around one evening looking, but didn’t see any; I guess the elk hadn’t read the memo about where they were supposed to be. In 2014 we were luckier and saw three of them in almost exactly the spot where the map said they’d be. Now those elk knew how to follow directions!
This year I did see this guy, on our first day there, as we were driving to our campground on a narrow sandy road through the tall trees.
What you lookin at lady?
I caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye and screeched to a halt. My friend, who was driving ahead of me, kept on going so she didn’t get to see him. I felt privileged to be able to snap his picture as he gazed somberly back at me.
Aside from the elk this state land is known for beautiful lakes and wonderful hiking trails. You can walk through varying topography and plant life, from wet bogs and reedy lake shores to hilly pine forests and open meadows.
Care to go for a walk?
We did all of that. We hiked around Pickerell Lake on a beautiful afternoon, the sky filled with white puffy clouds and the lake a beautiful blue.
It was a perfect day for a hike around a lake.
We climbed to the top of Inspiration Point, where the ranger said you can almost see from horizon to horizon. He was right.
Walking through the meadow on the way up the hill.
It would be a perfect place for star gazing if you’re there on a night when the full moon isn’t beating down on you.
You can see forever from here.
We walked along the river and looked up the names of all the wildflowers we could find. We were surprised by just how many there were when you stopped to really look.
I’ve already forgotten the name of this one. A variety of coneflower I think.
Mostly we just enjoyed being outside in a beautiful place during a beautiful weekend. Even when there was a bit of rain.
Walking through a misty rain.
And in the morning, when it was time to pack up and leave I felt sad, but happy too, that I got to spend time in this magical place. I know I’ll be back, likely on a dark night with no moon and clear skies. There are stars out there just begging to be photographed and I’d like to try.
The sky wasn’t dark enough with the full moon coming up behind me.
Until next time Pigeon River State Forest! It’s nice to know you’re up there waiting for us to stop by again.
Wonder what secrets the forest holds over there?
Until next time, Pigeon River.
I’m lucky to have such a wilderness so close to home, and I’m pleased to share it with all of you. If you’re ever this way, stop by and explore even a little of it.
You won’t be sorry you did.
All this and more is waiting for your visit!
I need to catch up as I’ve been traveling again, this time to a state forest campground in central Michigan. As soon as I saw this bench at the top of Inspiration Point in the middle of the Pigeon River Forest, I knew it would work for Cee’s challenge.
You could see for miles.
I drove over to Katie’s vet this morning to pick up some more flea and tick prevention medicine. She was glad she didn’t have to go with me. I did take my camera as I knew I’d be driving through the country and you just never know what you’ll see.
Almost feels like fall.
I was ambling down the road noticing that the corn here is just starting to tassel which always signals summer winding down to me. On the other hand it also signals the beginning of fresh corn season which is almost good enough to offset the heartache of summer’s demise.
And then suddenly there it was. The road ahead was closed. More road construction and me out in the middle of nowhere. No easy fixes here, I just took the last corner and headed west again when I needed to go east.
Turns out it wasn’t really such a bad deal. I got to see two barns I never would have found.
Time to start putting food away for winter.
This is what’s so fun, for me, about driving into unknown farm territory. You catch just a glimpse of a barn, sometimes a bit of red, or the tip of a roof line and if you’re lucky it turns into a great find.
Caught a glimpse of this one through the trees.
And on my way home I deliberately turned the wrong way…
What’s that way out there?
…and happened to come across a shorn wheat field full of Canadian geese and sandhill cranes.
I pulled over and stood in that field for a long time listening to them squabble over the best eating. The cranes were walking among the geese who were mostly napping. Different groups of cranes were flying at other groups.
This group of 5 was marching toward some sleeping geese.
I tiptoed away after awhile and continued home. What was just a trip to the vet to pick up some pills turned into a mini-adventure for me.
Don’t tell Katie, she’ll be mad she didn’t get to go.
Pretty big barn.
Change Is Hard 