North Shore Trip 2007
Sitting on a rock ledge in Grand Marais, MN, overlooking Lake Superior…
Sun glistening off the endless blue ripples… Warm in my new red sweater, and enjoying a cool brisk breeze and the sound of the waves folding over the rocky coast.
The guys’ voices rise in a laugh as Dan’s joke evokes chuckles. Camaraderie. Community. The security that exists in that comfortable interaction between good friends. I love these people. This time in our lives is priceless. We are young and up for adventures together. We are exploring new things and enjoying traditions. We have no children to be responsible for yet. We are free to travel and experience new places and sights and smells and sounds and tastes. Every sense is satisfied here. Up North. The North Shore. 
We are at rest here. Mind, Body, and Soul. I think, in a way, we all live for this trip each Fall. It is the highlight of my year in Minnesota. Hands down.
Chuck looks back at me, checking in—smiling huge and waving… Then turns back around to face the expanse of water—bobbing his head from side to side–his “Happy Dance” that means he’s deep down joyful. 
I love that I know these people so well—their mannerisms… the nuances of who they are. And yet, each one of us, as close as we are, still are mysterious creatures. The depths of our hearts and thoughts known only by You, God.
My eyes lift up to the blue, blue sky, and the wisps of white clouds that have come out to dance in a slow waltz across the
blue dance floor of sky.
A ladybug lands on my journal and crawls around. So little and perfect and shiny and colorful. And then she flies away. A short visit.
Can this last forever? Please? Can I just live here forever? Must I travel back to Suburbia? Where questions and stresses and traffic and mortgages and phone calls await?
Eric squints up at me, a smile plays on the corners of this mouth, and I smile back at my best friend. The man my heart loves. And I know, at least, that I get to go back to the real world with him. And that is what makes me ok.
The sun hides momentarily behind a cloud that danced across its beams—and returns again in the short time it took me to write out that sentence.
The quiet peacefulness is suddenly interrupted with the loud shouting of a group of rowdy teenage boys. “DUDE!” this, and “DUDE!” that… I smile. We experience and enjoy our surroundings this way, in quiet, and they express their delight in the form of dares and bold claims of jumping off cliffs and climbing rocks. Normally it would annoy me, but today I smile for them. For their youth and lack of inhibitions. For the life and potential pulsing through their veins. For them getting to experience all this glorious beauty on a perfect October Saturday.
I love how this Lake goes out forever… How it feels like the Atlantic coastline of Maine… ocean waves, rocky shoreline… only freshwater, and not salt.
I love the line of 2 distinct blues. One for the sky; one for the water. Perfectly parted.
“And God said, ‘Let there be an expanse between the waters to separate water from water.’ So God made the expanse and separated the water under the expanse from the water above it. And it was so. God called the expanse sky.”
