our last hurrah

We left Friday morning for the North Shore with city things weighing on our minds: doctor and hospital questions, unfinished articles, deadlines. All that evaporates once you pass Duluth on Highway 61 and head north past Betty's Pies, Two Harbors, several state parks. You're under the spell of glittering Lake Superior, out the window to your right. And once you get to Grand Marais, it feels like you're in a different time and place altogether. They say Grand Marais is one of those places, like Connemara in western Ireland, where the veil between heaven and earth is thinner somehow, and I think it's true — of both places.

It was our last vacation before the baby is born. I couldn't do much hiking, but we had a splendid time, relaxing and reading at the edge of the lake outside our lodge (the Naniboujou Lodge, about 15 miles north of Grand Marais) in big red chairs, eating the most delicious breakfasts I've ever had on the North Shore. (The huge cinnamon rolls at the lodge are not to be missed — nor is the brightly colored dining room, which I am having trouble uploading, but you can see it if you click on the Web site link.)


We have a few rituals in Grand Marais. Every time we are there, for example, I buy a book at Drury Lane Books ...


Often, it's poetry or a book on gardening or whatever strikes my fancy in the moment. This time, I bought The Scent of God by Beryl Singleton Bissell (a new memoir by a local woman who used to be a nun until she fell in love with a priest, and they both left their respective vocations and got married). And because I'd bought my tenth book, I also got a free one, so I chose The Jane Austen Book Club: A Novel by Karen Joy Fowler. But I won't be starting either of them until I finish with the used paperback I picked up at the lodge — Anne of Ingleside, the sixth book in the Green Gables series. I'm loving it! Anne is the mother of six children now, and I love reading about what she's like as a mother. She's good-natured, patient and compassionate; and she encourages laughter and imagination in her big, cozy home. I hope I will be half the wonderful role model she is!

One of Steve's rituals is collecting the grey-blue rocks that are so ubiquitous on the North Shore. Our house is full of them. They sit in boxes in the basement and in glass dishes on shelves. He loves them so much. I myself prefer the colorful rocks, the ones that stand out on the beach, but he is always searching — with great passion — for just the perfect shape, smoothness and shade of grey.


He also loves to skip stones. He can make them go six or seven times along the surface of a good wave. He cannot wait to teach our son to do it!


The moonlight on the water was so breathtaking. All I could capture was a few blurry shots.



Today, we walked out onto Artist's Point at the tip of Grand Marais. It was such a beautiful day.



It has been hard to come home. But I know we'll be back before too long. And next time, we'll be able to share it with the third member of our little family. I can't wait!