It’s been a quiet summer here, at least for the adults and one miserably hot Labrador Retriever. While Josie tore through theater stage crew, volleyball camp and writing class, Greg had his nose to the legal grindstone and I’ve been writing, writing, special-project writing, and quietly keeping fingers crossed. I know it’s still late July but I can feel summer shifting, preparing to shuffle its humid, sticky self down the hill toward fall. You can see it in the faces of tired mosquito-slappers, taste it in salad when you’re dreaming of hot soup and finally, you can hear it from children. Children who absolutely, no way, totally mean it do not want to go back to school.
For us the surest sign is a road trip, one we’ve taken every end-of-summer for years, up to northern Minnesota – way up north, as they say, near the Boundary Waters. So sacred is this trip to our little family that I believe if we did not make the drive, time might stop and summer would never end. And if the prospect of a sweaty, eternal August scares you, don’t worry: while there’s breath in our bodies and gas in the car, we will not miss granite coves or wild blueberry danishes or glittering Lake Superior, so wide and welcome and cold.
Thus we are off toward Highway 61 – revisited – in just a few days. And before I break into song about pine trees and seagulls and pie, I’d better make with today’s ten words:
What’s your favorite road trip?
Hope you’ve been enjoying a marvelous summer. I’ll be back soon with a few longer posts, a few food posts and a few sweet surprises.
ah, last year.
More of Minnesota’s North Shore: