We pulled onto the gravel road after a two and a half hour drive from home (which is now Ann Arbor, MI), parking next to a cottage positioned across the street from the coast of Lake Michigan. The window-lined front of our cabin provided a lovely horizon view for sunsets, and early morning pink-tinted skies. The winter trees stood in line along the bluff above the water, a web of sticks in the air. About 100 feet back from our rented home-for-the-weekend were cottages 2, and 3, and 4, and 5. Each a slightly different layout, tucked into the western Michigan woods. The Lodge peaking out above all of us, its second story full of beds and ladders; it’s first floor open layout perfect for hosting meals to feed nine kids and eight adults.
It’s February., but the infamous gray winter clouds have seemingly moved on, making way for sensational winter sunsets over the water. We all marveled.
I could so easily picture the dream of a summer here.
Big green trees shading the patios outside of each cottage, grilling family-style meals, coozies keeping the ales cold and adults content, the kids running around for hours on the grass. I could picture summer days down the dozens of stairs to the private beach, soaking our feet in the water and digging shovels in the sand.
I imagined the colors of fall as a canopy over the cottages, and a blanket of snow across it all. This magical place holding secrets and beauty of every season.
All of this, just two and a half hours away.
The magic of them.
One of my favorite things about parenting is witnessing what will be their memories of childhood. Taking a photo, knowing it will be a small sliver of how they remember these days. Wondering what will be vivid to them, what will be a little staticky when they try to recall it. What they were laughing about, the bonds they keep forming.
Their first trip to The Lake. It was cold and windy, but there was sun. They ate almost nothing but snacks on snacks, chasing each other around, watching movies, throwing popcorn on the floor as a “trap” for the adults (three cheers for vacuums!), making forts in the nook, throwing rocks in the water. They made crafts, played new games (Group Spot It, a surprising hit!), used a Polaroid camera for the first time. They asked if we could stay longer, I hope they know we’ll bring them back.
My parents took us (three kids) on vacation every summer; as a parent of three kids now, I am floored by what they took on without much (if any) support. So many hotels, drives to the “city” the night before a flight to get the three-hour drive out of the way, the flights! Disney World trips and spring break in DC that one year and soccer tournaments and ski days. We saw so much of the country, but rarely explored what was south of us, in our own home state (NM).
With our kids at these young ages (now 6!, 3 and 2), we’ve slowed way down on our own pace of exploring. We will fly with them next month for the first time since last June (which was a one-way-flight to Michigan for the move). A stark difference from the 15+ round trips our oldest took before he was two and we had to start buying a third plane ticket.
It’s occurring to me now that we’ve thought of “travel” as a big thing—flights and new cities or countries—a thing we don’t always have the time or resources to do in this particular season. This weekend reminded me we have a Lot of places to explore in our new home state, and it’s relatively easy to get out there. That to them, it’s all new anyway. It’s all magic.
I love this essay ~ all the feels.
Love, Mamacita