Lake Superior

It is Friday, Henry is seven weeks old today. Everything is quiet, both kids are sleeping. I just had my postpartum checkup and everything seems to be just fine. Thank goodness.

Every year about this time I get very nostalgic for my favorite place on earth -- Lake Superior in the U.P. of Michigan. My family has made many trips to the rocky shores. Each summer we would pack our whole family and my paternal grandmother, Gran, into our car (and eventually mini van) and spend 10+ hours on the long drive from East Lansing to Lake Shore Cabins in Silver City. Even before I was a part of this world, my Gran would pack up my dad and uncle and drive all the way from Missouri to escape the ragweed, to which my dad is allergic.
My dad, sister and brother years ago:



Gran was a geologist, so our trips consisted of looking for agates and visiting the copper dump to search for cast off scraps of copper, as well as hiking in the Porcupine Mountains, roasting hot dogs over a bonfire, and attempting to swim in the frigid waters of the great Lake Superior. I love this place, it is inexplicably peaceful and relaxing. It could be, in part, that there are no phones, televisions, computers, or other distracting electronic devices but I think the fresh, clean air and the sounds of the lake contribute as well.
My sister and I on a more recent trip:



I am desperate to share this experience with Vince, Eleanor and Henry. I want them to breathe the cool air, smell the lake and the woods, and learn how to spot an agate in the wet or the dry. The problem is, it is difficult to get there. At any rate, I do hope to take my brood to my favorite spot one of these days.

In the meantime, we will have to make do with some rocks that we have from vacations past. In addition to agates, the beaches are covered with myriad rocks of different shapes, sizes and colors. My favorites are the smooth, heavy pieces of basalt; they feel especially nice in your hand. As a kid, I would look for basalt that had holes in it -- my Gran explained that this is where the agates formed. These were special pieces of stone for me, so I named them stoneys. We have a couple of stoneys here at the house, as well as many nearly perfect round pieces of basalt.
Eleanor playing with basalt:



Eleanor has enjoyed playing with these rocks on many occasions. I just have to watch her because there is something enticing about the smoothness of these rocks that makes her want to pop them in her mouth. Some of the best toys are not even toys at all, just little pieces of nature. I am glad that she has them, in some small way she is connecting with my favorite place.