Here in the depth of January, I find myself again dreaming of Michigan. For a thousand and one reasons I don't want to go back, I've built a new life here and I am enjoying it.... but:
I still think of Lake Michigan on a winter afternoon with Chicago dimly imagined on the other side of green and stormy waves.
I think of a roaring fire in a huge stone hearth with snow dappled pines and spruce trees seen through each window pane.
I dream of Mackinaw in sumer, looking down from the terraced cafe to a marina of white boats on deep blue water.
I remember Grosse Pointe at twilight along Lakeshore Drive, seeing the red and orange sails out on the water, with the big lake freighters out in the deep channel at the edge of my vision.
Sometimes I just dream of Michigan.. so long ago now...so far away.... still so deep in my heart.
1 comment:
As the immortal Blake Clark, aka
Farmer Fran of "Joe Dirt" Fame once observed, "Home is where you make it, everybody knows that"
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