Over the rivers and through the woods to Catherine’s house we go

First we go over the Silver River (at least twice) and get to L'Anse.

Good morning, dear readers.  Would you like to join me on a visit to a good friend’s house last Thursday?

Catherine and I planned to travel to Houghton for lunch, recycling, shopping at the co-op.  But the wind blew sideways in the Keweenaw, so I offered  instead to stop at the Nite Owl cafe and pick up two grilled chicken salads and deliver them to her farmhouse up in the hills of Herman.

Wind and sand blowing sideways from Lake Superior (this picture is for John)

She liked the idea.

I paused first next to the Keweenaw Bay and watched Lake Superior freezing.

Snow and sand swirled.

It was 3 degrees (-16 Celsius)  and icy-cold.

Let's travel up the hill to Herman, one of the high points in this neck of the woods

Up, up, up you drive to Herman, another old Finnish farming settlement.

You drive slowly around curves, creeping, careful.  A few years ago I did the Artist’s Way with Catherine and two other friends.  One of them rounded a curve too fast and ended up deep in a snow bank.

Lesson learned.  Creep around those curves.

Catherine's barn. Isn't it lovely?

I always pause and admire Catherine’s old barn.  Old barns in Michigan are falling down as the earth reclaims them.  Her barn still looks noble with its rounded roof and remnants of red stain.

Evergreens and snow

Herman always has more snow than L’Anse, because it sits atop a large hill overlooking the surrounding countryside.  Telephone towers jut ominously across its peak.

Deer grazing under her apple trees. (tee hee!)

I love Catherine’s house and land.  Once, years ago, I did a two or three-day Vision Quest here, sitting on the land, fasting, praying.

It is a sacred place.

Old clock with elves protecting Time

Treasures abound within her house.  Shall I show you some?

Crystal snowflake in window (snow shadows in background)

Another crystal in window; tree

Her back windows overlook an old apple orchard.  Some years we’ve baked apple crisp and simmered applesauce with apples from these trees.

Pussy willows in window. Another "impossibility" in winter, right?

We ate our chicken salads, talking, talking.  We needed to catch up.  It’s been far too long since we got together.  Last autumn?  Was it last summer?  Far too long, anyway.

Haven't you always wanted a claw-foot bathtub?

My eyes kept noticing beauty.

“I have to get my camera,” I said.  (It waited patiently in the freezing car.)

When I started snapping photos, I couldn’t quit.

Anyone want to tango this morning?

Catherine knows how to tango, can you imagine?

I cannot tango, but I could take photos of dancers.

Catherine, please put your hand under that beautiful purple glass ball, thank you.

“Can I take your picture, Catherine?” I asked.

She shook her head.

She was not prepared.

There are photos of her elsewhere in my blog.  If you want to click on almost 550 blog entries (oh and go back and look at the 365 entries on Opening the door, Walking Outside) you’ll find her, I am sure.

Small offerings. Vase, stones, sweet grass.

Pottery by Ed Gray, local Native American artist

We finished our lunch.  We vowed to get together more often.  Honest, we will.  We won’t wait six months next time.

Maybe next time we’ll traipse outside in the fields or woods, or maybe hike to the beaver pond.

OK, it's not so "impossible" is it?

Remember Friday’s blog?  Here is another view of that plant from inside the window.  OK, it wasn’t really an impossibility.  **grin**

But it was fun to imagine, wasn’t it?