Back on the Bay – Home for the Holidays and Beyond

Yesterday, Michelle came home from “kid” and house sitting for friends in town. Aly and I hiked out to meet her on the bay and help carry her gear in. Low angled sun filled the beach as we met and hugged. It seems like she’s been gone forever. She brought most of what we’ll need for Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday. It felt like a real homecoming, which is exactly what it is.

It’s fitting that she would come back the Sunday of Thanksgiving week. It’s one more thing (among many) that we’re thankful for. I feel like I used to when my older brother arrived home for the holidays from college: we’re all here, now the fun can begin! We hadn’t really cultivated that holiday feeling until she returned to us; now that she’s here, we’re definitely in the mood.

Like last time, it will be fun to watch her “re-entry” into homestead life. She’s been on a different circadian cycle in town, with lots of light until late in the evening. The night before, while she stayed up past midnight packing and cleaning, thinking nothing of it, I nodded helplessly over a fascinating book in our dark little cabin at 8:30 pm! We expect her to nap often, while she readjusts and recoups. Meanwhile, Aly and I will adjust to having an “extra” person in the house.

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Goddess of Small Things

For many years, some of the most pleasant moments of my life have come from simply following my daughter around. Ever since she could walk, I’ve been delighted by the journey of discovery each outing becomes, particularly when she takes the lead and I follow where ever she chooses to go. Even now, at 17 years old, at the very doorstep of Womanhood, the patterns are familiar and rewarding.

The other morning, she announced that she was going to go for a walk, and I tagged along. She led us up to the “swamp,” a muskeg bog up the trail. It has always provided summer water for our homestead, and served as a potato patch at one time for the previous owner. It’s a small open place in the forest, a fairly round pond of water, dotted by mossy islets and long dead trees. These days, the ice is frozen to about an inch deep. Unlike most visits, when we have to slog through mud or traverse old plank bridges, we could walk across the ice and explore freely.

Before long, Aly assumed a posture very familiar to any outing: crouched down, hunched over, closely examining minute details beneath her. In this case, she had discovered caddis fly larvae teeming over the pond bottom under the ice. Soon, she had her digital camera out, snapping close ups of the half-inch long creatures.

nature photographer

Aly and her trusty camera, exploring the tiny denizens of "the swamp." (Photo: Mark Zeiger.)

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