Reflections

July 5, 2017

I left home about 8:30 or so after a stop at the post office. I had high expectations for this trip which always bodes not well… anyway.  I get on the expressway and eventually stop in Sheboygan for lunch. I decide to check he directions and find that I can take the back roads instead the ‘hiway’.  And so I do.  After many turn arounds, and trying to read the map on my phone and drive at the same time (but officer, I was NOT texting!) I find my way… This is what we used to do on road trips  - get off the beaten path and just drive to someplace, maybe some small town with a café for lunch, no big chains, thank you very much - unless, of course, it was A&W - that was OK…...

Glenn would have loved this - a drive along the shore of Lake Michigan- open fields dotting the landscape… the temperature dropped at least 20 degrees along the way - cool lake breezes blowing through my hair – and yes the top is down ….

 And so I wind my way north and west with the cell phone in my hand… and I get there.

And of course it is not quite what I expected and my room is not ready - so what is a girl to do?  To the bar of course…

And the bartender hands me a wine in the best crystal for an outdoor bar - of course!

And so I relax - or try - and then of course- it starts to drizzle… We often joked about how no matter where we went - or what the season, the rain followed us - and today was no exception - here’s to you, Glenn!

As long as you are up there - can’t you put in a good word??

I guess not………

We were here in Door  County in June of 2012, and this is what I wrote then:

The air was starting to get warm - the breeze was strong.  Boats floating quietly in their bunks, their pj’s still covering them from the morning dew. Deck hands were busy with ropes, deck wash, checking the sails, getting ready for the day’s activities.  Tourists were lining up for the 10:00 sailing. The hustle & bustle was in sharp contrast to the quiet of the distant water….

The dingy pushes us out of the dock area, like a dolphin playing with us, and we head into the bay. The captain/owner begins tossing instructions to the 2 deck hands - using a language I don’t know - the language of the water and sailing.  But as I watch the sails go up, I can match words and actions and the parts of the boat.

The motor is turned off - the sails are up and the quiet becomes almost overwhelming -except for the chatter of the ‘guests’ aboard for the morning sail.

As we sail around the small islands, the captain gives us the history of the boat and some of the history of the islands and its people. While the conversation is mostly interesting, my attention is on whatever I can see in the distance - the mini waves breaking in front of us as we sail, read ‘glide‘, over the water. 

The quiet is calming, the breeze barely felt, the sun is just warm enough.  It would be perfect without the other 1o people or so but since  I could  never sail this on my own, it’ll have to do!!

Water is everywhere on and or near this peninsula called Door county, (duh - of course!!) - almost a prerequisite to any of our vacations.  Not only the lake that surrounds us, but the rain the comes down to us!

After a less than perfect day of disappointments and too many people, we head to Washington island via car ferry.  Fortunately, although there were enough cars to fill the ferries, the wait was minimal. A half hour trip and we’re there.  This is what we were looking for - quaint shops without the crowds, artists in residence everywhere, bicycles on the roads, but few cars - open spaces and tree lined back roads.  We meander around the island, check out a ‘maritime museum’ hosted by an old geezer from - guess where?  Joliet!  A lot of Chicago people have retired here and made it home.  Lunch is off of a hot dog truck, sea gulls (or maybe  terns?)  obstinate in their squawking for handouts - but to no avail - seagulls don’t need either hot dogs or chips.  In the small canal off the walkway is a family of swans - mom, dad and the cygnets eating their own lunch - while a trio of seagulls (terns?) fight over a large piece of dead meat - it looks like salmon, but I’m sure it isn’t.  Wings-a-flapping and squawking in birdspeak.  It’s hard to tell who is the winner. 

The next day, after a long day of driving, we arrive in Wisconsin dells. Boy are we glad we aren’t staying at one of these mega touristy places… we make our way to our lodging - about 7-8 miles away from all of the hullabaloo and tacky stuff.  Our room faces the river and it is now sunset…

The sky is dappled with pink and bluish gray, patches of light sky peeking through.  Even the water has a pinkish/blue/gray cast to it, highlighting the current that runs, tiptoes, downstream,  I call these skies ‘skybluepink.’  Somewhere in my childhood I came up with this color.. And it is apt.  Around the edges lingers a violet fringe, soon to be diluted with the coming of night………..

I don’t know if I’ll see any of this although, the resort where I am staying is on the water.. .. But maybe…  and while this isn’t a place that he and I would have stayed at, it will suffice - and I can remember…

This one’s for you, my love….