Before I begin - a funny story about 20 year old me (I won't tell you exactly how many years ago that was). I was living on Crescent Lake in Rhinelander Wisconsin with my husband. I've had two of those now, and I assure you they aren't broken - it's me...I'm not cut out to be a wife but that's an entirely different story I'm trying to heal through. We literally lived on the water and we had walked down our stairs and were sitting enjoying a bonfire listening to the waves lap the shore and I said "don't you miss living on the lake?" to which my husband replied "are you drinking?" and I sprung into my explanation. Lake Michigan is a great lake as well as being one of the Great Lakes. It's so incredibly different than an inland lake. When you grow up on something so large and magnificent, the gentle laps of Crescent Lake seem like child's play.
Lake Michigan is different each and every day. It's different throughout the day. It's the vastness of her and her power that you can easily get lost in. If I'm late for anything, it's usually because I stopped to take a photograph of her beauty. She can be tranquil and a gentle place to sit and think and then as the wind changes she becomes angry and temperamental and you know she could end your worldly life with one twist and turn of the tide. I sit with her to relax. I sit with her to think. I sit with her while she puts me in my place. I can go to her waters asking why is my life such a mess and I look down and see dead fish, broken shells, rocks, discarded things, and yet when I look at her she is the epitome of beauty and she says to me "you look at yourself and see only brokenness and discord and yet I see beauty in you just like you see beauty in me - be gentle with yourself".
Interesting isn't it? In none of the pictures I take of Lake Michigan do people comment on the water quality, the brokenness, the messiness, the literal muddiness...everyone comments on the beauty and grace. There's something about the water - she is always calling me home to her. We sit a while and like an old friend she holds me and listens to my sorrows and then washes them away so I may go on to play in the sunshine another day.
I am older and now I fully realize there is beauty in small lakes as well as large ones - Lake Michigan will always hold a dear place in my life. She has my heart.
Today's post was penned by Crystal J. Casavant
Crystal Casavant writes. Everything. If you follow her blog you have likely laid eyes on every thought she has ever had. Her debut novel, It Was Never About Me, Wat It? is still a work in progress and shall be fully worthy sometime in 2025. She has written for WOW! Women on Writing, Bring on Lemons, and has been featured in several magazines and ezines relating to credit and collections as well as religious collections for confessional Lutherans. She runs a busy household full of intelligent, recalcitrant, and delightful humans who give her breath and keep her heart beating day after day.
Comments
Post a Comment