Porcupine Journals - Day 6

"It's a lovely Sunday morning. The sun is no longer in doubt - burst forth in so many beams of light. It is an ideal day to explore the boulder strewn shores of the "Big Waters" - Gitchee Gume as the Ojibwe knew it...

At the south boundary road of the park I got my hobo card ready, "Isle Presque River", and stuck my thumb out. Hitchhiking is pretty hit and miss these days in America. Sometimes it seems almost no-one has the heart to help a random stranger down the road. A good hearty smile helps though and before I know it I'm in the back of a plush Audi with two gentlemen from Minneapolis chatting away. We talked about science, education, and photography for 20 miles. Then I waved them goodbye and blessed them for their hospitality jumping in the forest!

As soon as I stepped under the shadows of the canopy they were on me. The mosquitos are so bad this year - perhaps from all the rain. They buzz and whine and hover eager to suck my blood. It is enough to make one mad and so I made the hike today more of a trail run. When I reached the bluff above the Little Carp River I'd like to think I was spent a special omen. From a craggy fir tree beside me a huge bald eagle swooped down to greet me. Flying down river leaving only a wispy white feather to dangle in front of me in that chasm of space. Like the feather, the moment seemed to hang suspended in a quite eternity....

I think we should all take beautiful, magical moments such as these for what they are - omens. Omens to give thanks and reflect. And so I breathed in deeply and thought about my family, friends, the past, future, and the great now - all my hopes and dreams. Yesterday I called my family and was upset to learn that my uncle Steven has been diagnosed with a form of cancer. A type of lymphatic cancer that can be treated, but not cured. We are all shocked and saddened to learn this - what can we do? It couldn't happen to a more wonderful man, and human being. I think about him in my prayers before blowing them off like dandelion seeds in the breeze.

Following the river North along the bluffs I eventually reached the lakeshore. Paper birch hem in the rocks that tumble down into the grooves of the shallows. Big slabs of rock hunch like bleached whales just beyond. Good places to tiptoe on bare feet and explore. To lay back against in the sun and and listen to the waves and wind. Tall bunches of grass poke out from between the jumbled rocks. It was here I discovered beautiful blue iris's, and a family of garter snakes. They rustle in the dry grass and flee beneath the rocks as I approach, but they left something behind. They forgot their skins! Leathery, transparent like paper - a perfect replica of a snake peeled away. Undressed.

I pass tall cairns of rocks stacked by visitors. One is so tall it is almost my height with a smiley face for a head. He grins at me and we share the joy of the lake together on this fine afternoon. I pass a family of mergansers in the shallows near the mouth of the Big Carp River, and just the back end of a wood chuck dashing in the horsetails and rushes. And then I found a good slab of rock to lay on and gaze out on the endless horizon of these big waters. It is almost beyond me to imagine the enormous glaciers that produced this giant freshwater sea. Two miles of ice above my head gouging these deep lakes and scraping clean the earth itself. It makes me wonder and dream.

As the shadows lengthened I began hiking the 6 miles back. At the boundary road an adorable older couple picked me up. Retired union activists and teachers from Chicago, they were wonderful people. Once again I'm left refreshed and indebted to the hospitality of strangers. Back at the cabin I bathed naked in the cool recesses of the stream before getting the woodstove ready to sip on rose-petal and labrador tea - homemade - and delve into a good book. A delicious day. "