Illustrated story - Island Life
Hiking away from the overcrowded Lighthouse on Split Rock, the beacon of light gets farther and farther away and the tower gets smaller and smaller in size. Flat rocks, worn from the great lake current, clink together under foot. Taking a rest on a quiet rock bed, I start dreaming of what's ahead of me.
An island. Pristine in nature. Untouched by the tourists. They have seemed to thin as I make my way further from the main attraction.
The Island is begging me. The edge closest to shore taunts me with a shallow sandbar. The stones are few and mostly submerged in the bitter waters. With a naturally made bridge... how can I not? How can I see these stones and that island and not experience both? I start out with the first few and survey the surroundings. Best to step in between the rising waves. Briskly, but not too briskly. It's not until I get to the island that I spy the state sign claiming it a natural reserve and trespassing is forbidden. My socks are wet. I'm breaking the law.
I let my socks dry out in the sun. Sitting on the island that I wasn't supposed to be sitting on was the best thing I did that day. Far from the people that emerged from hiding to appreciate this sun that felt so new. Quiet aside from the wind whisking past my ears and the water crashing into rock. I sat with my thoughts and the sun on my face for a long time. I cross back to the mainland barefoot this time.
Convinced I am a total bad ass, when this low flying plane blows through, I assume it the DNR ready to arrest me. I make up a scenario where the woman that saw me cross, ran back to tattle on the reckloose heading for the island.
I loved this hour of my day.
No comments:
Post a Comment