Small Joys

The day is hazy again and I can't wait to explore Cave Point. Remember Rita on the Harbor Lady yacht who checked off a list of Door County must dos? Her recommendation was to see Cave Point when it is windy and it is windy. So, off I go. Hopefully, I'll be able to show you some picturesque images. 

My last three postings were done by phone because my move to Larson Cottages eliminated any convenient internet access. But, Sharon stopped by today for a visit that turned into a request that I stick around until the cable guy completed his installation. Mind you, I wasn't asked to baby sit him. Sharon wanted to show me the side entrance to the garage on the property, the location of the newly installed modem. She was disappointed that the wireless capability would not be available until after my departure. But, when she became aware of her need to ask me to change accommodations, Sharon went into overdrive making sure my new location would meet my every need. 

Upon selecting Larson Cottages, Sharon contacted the owners expressing they needed to install internet and they responded. Of course, the property is owned by her daughter-in-law's family. 

So, the good news is I am not being charged the full rate for this new set-up due to Sharon's snafu. Saturday, she brought fresh burgundy floor mats. Today, she brought me a brand new DVD player and made sure I had access to the new modem. Finally, she has also granted me permission to use the off limits washer and dryer on the grounds. 

Now, I know that many of you might be thinking, "she should be jumping through hoops." But, the way I see it is this very hard working farmer, leasing agent, soon to turn 70 woman, is quite hospitable and a force of nature. I imagine she'll be changing her little world for quite a while. She just got her vegetable garden in, which she has done for the past 50 years and she has shared plenty about her mother who turned 100 in March. 

So, this rambling started with the thought that I have been posting with my phone. This is the reason for the lack of pictures. With Sharon's insistent needling of her owners, I will now be able to document the rest of my Door County stay with visuals as well. 
:)

Lighthouses of Door County

With so much shoreline around Door County, a great selection of lighthouses are present. Everyone who realizes I am here for a while encourage me to go to the lighthouses. So, I have. What is not to love about a beacon that offers safety and guidance?

My initial excursion was on a trolley tour that took the passengers to 4 lighthouses, pointed out two more and showed us a pair of range lights. It was a fascinating history. 

Eagle Bluff was established in 1868. The waters below the bluff were completely unpredictable and the depth of the water at points deceiving. Many a vessel succumbed to a misread shallow passing. Pat, the lighthouse docent, displayed a passion for her task. The weather, being cloudy and windy, brought out her joy for the purpose of her treasured venue. Pat has spent hours renovating the interior, acquiring and refinishing original furniture, researching keepers and their families, contacting relatives of the keepers and interviewing them for stories. The one family she continually mentioned had 7 boys who played in the water of Green Bay, did labor intensive chores and warned Pa when the inspector's boat was seen in the distance approaching for a surprise visit. In fact, when news got out about the renovation of Eagle Bluff, Walter, the youngest boy of the seven sons, showed up to help restore his old home to its original state.  The piano, guitar, rope beds, quilts and Fresnel lens are all original. In the summers, the stove was moved outside to reduce the heat in the abode.   There were even four fireplaces that all vented through one chimney. So, one of the summer chores was to scrub and repaint the interior. When renovating, at least 22 coats of paint were counted. 

Cana Island Lighthouse
The lighthouse is accessible by a stone causeway.  When the water is at its normal level, the flooded causeway is crossed by rolling up pants and wading across in old tennis shoes.  Built in 1869 using Milwaukee "Cream City" Brick, it was first lit in 1870. The lighthouse tower was constructed of the same stone and suffered significant deterioration due to severe weather. In 1901, the tower was encased with iron sheets to prevent the demise of the tower.  Like Eagle Bluff, the interior was set up with period pieces. Unlike Eagle Bluff, the tower was open to visitors. The narrow, iron, spiral stairway was a 95 stepped climb culminating in crawling through a hatch. This was where I got my close up of the Fresnel lens and a breathtaking view of the Door County shoreline, often the chosen site of destination weddings. 

Sturgeon Bay Ship Canal North Pierhead Light & Lighthouse
Around Sturgeon Bay there was a marshy area that forced shippers of old to travel all the way around the peninsula to get from Green Bay to Lake Michigan. A 7 mile canal was created, part dug and another part was dredged. The red Pierhead Light went into service in 1882 to guide ships to the canal. Realizing a taller light was needed, the new age looking lighthouse went into service in 1899. Though neither light was open for visitors, I was able to walk along the lengthy pier to get a closer look at the cute, stumpy, red light. The wind forcing the water to crash along the rock base of the pier was refreshing and exciting. The land on which the taller light was located is an active Coast Guard post. The servicemen and women are responsible for maintaining all of the lighthouses in the county and breaking the ice on the bay and Lake Michigan. Pat, the Eagle Bluff lighthouse docent, really looks forward to light inspection visits because the young men are so easy on the eyes. 

Sherwood Point Lighthouse
This lighthouse, still a residence, was closed to the public. Retired and active military can rent it for a week for a vacation at a song. Of course, the Coast Guard gets first preference. I did get to see this beauty from the water when I took the Harbor Lady yacht tour. It was picturesque. A setting of a storybook, it was disappointing to cruise away. 

Door County is full of charm, history and postcard perfect images around every corner. The lighthouses are the shiny ribbon that ties up the whole package. 

Eviction

I have been evicted from the Kozy Q Cottage in Ephraim, WI.

A little over a week ago, Sharon, the booking agent, sent me a frantic e-mail stating she had double booked the Kozy Q starting June 25th. A family from Missouri had signed a leasing contract in May; therefore, they had dibs on the facility. Of course, I have a bit of my Dad in me and my mind went to the defensive mode of "too bad for Sharon. I'm staying since I am already here."

However, after milling over the situation, I responded to Sharon stating that since I was scheduled to be in Ephraim until July 2nd, I was sure she would work something out. The next day she took me to two other properties so I could decide where to move when the time came. Sharon was very grateful for my calm reaction and bent over backwards to accommodate me.

I am now in a 3 bedroom cottage with no stairs. It was definitely a downgrade and the idea of the move was a bit disappointing. But, after fighting the shower rod, negotiating the stairs for night time bathroom visits and basement laundry treks and getting tired of the claustrophobic feel of the bathroom, I anticipated the move with eagerness. To be quite frank, I had stopped sleeping upstairs the night before because I was waking with a sore back. The couch was offering better support.

So, here I am, sitting at my designated picnic table. I occupy one cottage in a commune of four. The painted panel walls are decorated with paint-by-number forest scenes, the carpet is that weather proof grade people install in screened in porches. The floor sags like an overused and infrequently flipped mattress. The faucet in the kitchen drips incessantly and the microwave is the size of a shoebox. There were no
towels, so the leasing agent brought me a bag of her personal supply. Internet service and a washer and dryer are non-existent. And... I
love it!

Maybe it is the sun finally out to kiss all the uncovered skin walking along the bay and sailing between islands, but I feel like I am breathing again. It is harder to hibernate here. I am within walking distance to the public beach. The sparsely furnished cottage with a multitude I windows gives me a sense of brightness. The simplicity of the cottage even reminds me of a monastic setting. In fact, the carillon of the Moravian Church just finished playing "A Mighty Fortress" and "Nearer My God To Thee."

In waking to a text from Dad, I realized my back wasn't aching. Could it really be a better bed or was it bonus from Advil due to leg aches yesterday evening? I made breakfast and ate out at the picnic table while reading Philippians. A couple of doves conversed using the sweet refrain that makes my heart sing. A chipmunk scurried from a neighbor's porch to mine while a community of robins delight in the gifts they find in the moist grass.

About 20 minutes ago, Sharon stopped by, exuberant about who knows what. She had just finished preparing the Kozy Q for it's new occupants and wanted to check on me. On her way to take new floor mats to the big house, she expressed, "would you rather have brown or burgundy floorats? I'd rather have burgundy." With my shoulder shrug, she started on her way, stopped again and said, "get the brown mats out of your cottage. The burgundy are brighter and prettier.". So, I removed the brown mats and replaced them with the new burgundy, just like she instructed. I had to laugh!

Larson's Cottages was a good move!

The White Gull Inn

This morning, I had the pleasure of eating breakfast at The White Gull Inn. During a group number in "Bing, The Cherry Musical," breakfast at The White Gull Inn was touted as a great experience of Door County.

About four days ago, I decided to head to the very inn for a late breakfast. The way I figured it, people would want to be out on the water by then and the crowd would be gone. Upon arrival, the street was crowded with vehicles on both sides and the porch was full of hungry humans. Needless to say, I turned around and found a different breakfast location.

The next day, I drove by again and found the same situation. No matter the weather or time of day, it seemed The White Gull Inn was the place to break your fast. So, I called to see if it was possible to make breakfast reservations. No, but the earlier the better. Those who know me realize that comment was a bit like torture.

This morning, while sleeping, the floor shook and something clanked in that creepy basement. I rolled over the get back to the act of slumbering, only to be jolted by a second and third clunking shake. Being a past homeowner, I assumed the worst and investigated. From what I could tell, there was nothing about which to worry. I looked at the microwave clock and my eyes about popped out of my head. It was 6:45, prime time for breakfast at The White Gull Inn.

Now, I couldn't just hop in the car and go. I needed to go through the morning prep. But... I decided to do it at the Y, which was on the way to Fish Creek and the inn. Yep, you read that correctly. I went to the Y just to shower. I'll go back later today to work-out. A bit backwards, however the idea of fighting with the downed shower curtain and rod again made me cringe.

Walking into the 115 year old inn, I was sure I would face a line of early risers. My expectations were joyfully diminished as I approached the hostess. I got a nice table next to a window framing the lovely gardens and cottages. Since I had looked up the menu on-line a few days before, I knew exactly what to order. I had to order the dish that won the inn the "Best Breakfast in America" title last year on Good Morning America. Though, the menu was chock full of great options thus making it tempting to try other things.

My tongue and tummy were pleased!

French Toast stuffed with cream cheese and Door County cherries and hash browns made from grated baked potatoes. Yummm!

It was well worth the early morning.

The White Gull Inn

The Wind Behind My Sails

I've never been on a sailboat. I have ridden on a cruise ship, in a couple of yachts and a few motorized sports boats. I have even been given the task of driving my brother-in-law's boat up a boat ramp onto his trailer. Granted, the fear of impaling the hull and my screaming banshee, "I can't do this" exclamations eventually relieved me of the duty. I have had the fun of riding, driving and falling off jet skis. I have never been on a sailboat.

Due to a Door county connection with a past colleague and dear friend, I had my first opportunity. John and Bonnie, relatives of my connection, happened to be in Sister Bay for the weekend. They offered a very gracious invitation to go "out on the boat" with them this past Saturday.

After "coming aboard" and getting situated, the couple began their perfectly choreographed task of launching the vessel. The wench was removed, dock ropes released, engine ignited (only used to maneuver the vessel in and out of the marina) and safety cables attached. For the next two hours, I saw Door County from the water's perspective.

Amazing.

Soothing.

Tranquil.

Peaceful.

I've never really had a wish to fly, but skimming over the water's surface at about 4 mph was mesmerizing. When the sail unfurled and bellowed at the wind's insistence, a bolt of exhilaration shot through my body. Experiencing a turn, feeling the lean of the boat, was thrilling. Getting to know the mind and heart of a very generous couple was inspiring. Gaining an awareness of my friend's childhood life was heartwarming.

Life can be just like that. God constantly uses His people and His creation to remind me of the power of simplicity. Despite the obstacles and trials I am constantly facing and often times embracing, His gift of simplicity is always available. How would life feel if I more regularly allowed the Father to be the wind that billows my sail? How would it feel to breathe if I allow Him to regularly control the helm, manipulate the rudder, and negotiate the sail's ropes? What would He successfully show me if I kept my eyes and ears open to His details rather than my minutiae?

Sailing on the breezes of Green Bay is an ideal metaphor for God's willingness to be present every day.

Thanks for the exquisite lesson, John & Bonnie!

Truly Mayberry

In all my driving around the various Door County villages, my heart keeps pulling me back to Ephraim. Not only because it is my temporary home, but because it is such a Mayberry feel.

Families are moving at a relaxed pace while toddlers relish the freedom to climb on rocks, spot fish and chase seagulls.

Giggles and shouts of discovery accompany the call of the red-winged blackbirds vanishing into the marsh.

Pre-teens with tackle boxes explore the end of docks, catching and releasing the evening's victory. The only thing missing was a red-head and his pa.

After dinner treat seekers congregate on Wilson's porch and then race the melting creamy treat on harbor benches.

No one shouts words of caution while the young explore, pushing limits with regards to boundaries. Kids are easily entertained by the natural wonders visible at every turn. Ephraim hasn't gone back to the basics. They have remained in a time that honors a calm pace.

Like a t-shirt I purchased states:

doorcounty.calm

Fyr Bal Festival of Ephraim, WI

Every year on Father's Day weekend, the village of Ephraim has a Fyr Ball Festival. A Scandinavian tradition, residents select a village chieftain, bonfires are lit all around Eagle Harbor and fireworks end the night. The intent of the bonfires is to burn off the Witch of Winter and welcome summer.

On Saturday night, I carted a collapsable canvas chair and Off to a public dock. Though I was not as close to the Village Hall as I had wished, I ended up in a perfect location. All said and done, I saw 15 bonfires and plenty of fireworks. I told my family that the bonfires were the largest birthday candles ever. It was a great day!

Roof of Grass continued

The goats are on the roof today. Their position looking precarious, but their confidence unshaken.

Kids speculating about how the creatures arrived at their unique location.

Parents laughing and pulling out their smartphones to prove to friends and relatives that the herd really resides on a roof.

Rod-4; Laurel-1

My sweet sister cheered on my success with the comment, "Camaranos always win!" Not this chica. At least, not yet. I had to laugh at my sister's comment because the rod had just fallen for the third time.

Okay, so have you ever feared taking a shower? I am starting to get there. I am beginning to "plan" my days around when I'll have time to remount the rod before taking a shower. I have even started considering showering at the Y in lieu of using the shower at my rental.

So, here is the big picture. The century old house has one bathroom on the main floor. As mentioned earlier, it is minuscule, thus, at times I feel like an indoor cat turning around in a litter box trying to place myself just so for whatever task is next.

To shower---Lean over the sink to turn on the faucet. Pull back the shower curtain without putting any sense of pressure on the rod, attempting to convince the troublesome tube that no effort will be required of it. Step on the tiny plot of floor between the commode and the tub in order to strategically climb into the tub without spraying the room or ending up in the porcelain throne. And then... there is the entire war with dual shower curtains during the showering process. The flimsy yellow shower curtain against the wall protects the wood of the window. The white curtain in the foreground protects the rest of the bathroom. While the shower head emits the water, a whirlwind ensues and the curtains pull to center, attaching themselves to wet skin like hair on a staticky balloon. Again, like a furry creature rotating to find a perfect placement, I twirl to rinse, again to add soap, then to rinse all the while batting away determined plastic sheets hindering the entire process.

To brush teeth---Plant my feet on the rectangle of linoleum between the commode and sink, making sure I step away from the cabinet door so the toothpaste can be reached. Bend over to eliminate the building foam, careful not to lose balance due to calves rubbing on the toilet.

To use the facilities---Make sure the seat is up, which is perpetually closed due to the fear of something ending up in the eau de toilette. Place feet shoulder width apart prior to rising. Lean on the edge of the tub to prevent an off-kiltered dismount due to knocking my forehead on the pedestal sink.

The biggest negotiation of all, descending the wooden steps and furniture-rich living area in the pitch of night to use the facilities. I'm almost in the mental state of a camper. I awake with an urge and then evaluate the extent of it. "You don't have a severe need. You can wait until morning. Just go back to sleep. Oh, forget it. You're wide awake, so you won't roll down the stairs. Just go and get it over with."

Of course, I also have a love/hate relationship with the shower rod. On the day I was to go out on a sailboat, the intent was to hurriedly shower following a gym workout. Water warm, one foot precisely placed on the floor, curtain gingerly pulled back, the other foot in midair entering the area of cleansing when the "wall" came tumbling down without the encouragement of Jericho's horns. Sponge bath time.

Today, upon fetching the step ladder, relocating my nemesis, completing the morning ablutions and beginning the process of becoming presentable, the rod relinquished its hold yet again. No expletives yet, just prayers of thanks that I have not been clobbered with the "rise and fall" of a retractable plastic tube.

Guess what I did this evening. I purchased a new shower rod and lighter shower curtain. I am not defeated, yet!

The Simpler Life continued

These girls know how to embrace the child within. Ripline!!!

Anticipation

Up and out to run some errands and visit the Y. But, first I need to eat lunch at Wilson's and go to Sister Bay for a grocery store run. It feels so strange to say I have to go to a different town (in this case, it is a village) to even see a grocery store. But, it is technically closer than driving from Joy's Black Forest house to King Sooper in Monument.

The day is reflective of a New England fall. The clouds are low and skimming over the surface of the bay. I can see to Peninsula State Park, but it is like I am looking through a specialty camera lens. Small fishing boats are trolling for the catch of the day, manned by sportsmen clad in rain gear. The remnants of last night's lullaby of a rain storm are cautiously lifting.

It isn't visibly evident, but the village is a buzz with preparations for the annual Fyr Bal Festival. Saturday will conclude with the Fyr Bal Chieftain lighting the bonfire at the Village Hall and participants along the shoreline following suit with their own wooden teepees.

I know this because of conversations I overheard in line while waiting to be seated for last night's musical. Wisconsin residents make a concerted effort to camp in Peninsula State Park around Father's Day weekend for the festivities. Cars are laden with outdoor gear and rubbermaid protected wood.

Arts and crafts, homemade food (there are no fast food restaurants in Northern Door), Norwegian dances, live music and multiple bonfires. What could be better?

Thankful for Allergies

Monday morning, I awoke to a clicking sound. I rotated in bed and looked for the culprit, all the while noticing the increasing rate of the noise. Observing some pressure around my right eye and the click coinciding with each blink of my eyelids, I realized there must be a pollen that my sinuses cannot handle.

Going downstairs to prepare for the day, I look into the mirror to discover a blowfish residing in my right eye. Now, I didn't "panic", but I did get nervous. I'd never seen the outer film of an eyeball swell and protrude beyond the eyelids. Was my eyesight in danger? Could I drive back to CO? I don't know anyone here. Would my insurance cover a doctor's visit? What if I have to undergo an invasive procedure? Is it okay to go to the Y?

I tell you what, having a smartphone became entirely worth it at this moment. I got a list of eye doctors in the Door County area and started calling until one was willing to squeeze me in at 3:45. It was an eternity to speculate about all the what ifs.

The eye improved throughout the day, but I kept my Sturgeon Bay appointment. I killed a little time collecting memory rocks in Ephraim and then drove 41 minutes to the doctor's office. I know, that distance is a drop in the bucket for you big city dwellers. :)

The business manager took my insurance card in an attempt to make a claim. The nurse cringed and looked at me blankly when I described my blowfish symptoms. The doctor did a thorough exam to investigate any deeper issues and then pronounced that I was experiencing an allergic reaction.

Relief set in when it became obvious my condition was neither "eye" threatening nor unusual. A $129 office visit charge later and with eye washing, cold packing, and antihistamine dropping instructions in hand, I took a triumphant saunter to the car.

Though a minimal success, I was pleased with my grown-up managing of the situation. I am 47 years old and such events should not generate such pride, but they do. It's all about discovering that being alone does not equate being defeated or handicapped. So, I celebrate the small victories. You'll have to ask me about repairing my dryer door latch with a $4.50 part rather than a $90+ service call.

I honored my victory with a gutsy pop-in visit to reservations only Donny's Glidden Lodge Restaurant. Magnificent views, succulent steak, luscious shrimp, perfectly seasoned vegetables, and a side of eating alone confidence served as an ideal accolade.

You're right, Leslie. I am making it happen and God is opening my heart to embracing the subtle conquests.

The perfect setting

I decided to venture out to collect memory rocks and investigate a new place to eat. Rita, the Milwaukee native, suggested sitting on the water at Fred and Fuzzy's. Great call.

The sky is overcast, so it is quite comfortable sitting in the sun.

The breeze off the bay gently whispers. A pair of seagulls plaintively request table food. They moan like domestic felines craving attention or a stinky dinner. As a patron walks the rocky shore, the cry increases to a defensive plea for privacy. Later, I realize the cacophony is a territorial argument between gulls.

A gaggle of geese (never imagined I'd ever get to use the phrase) floats toward the dock investigating prime grazing land. Among the adults are half a dozen goslings dunking their heads into the bay, causing their fuzzy bottoms to point skyward. The wiggling derrières bring a smile. On land, the adults stand sentry while the young forage, heads bobbing up simultaneously when a new noise breaks the silence.

Two houses on the water's edge, grand in size but unassuming in materials, are flanked with water toys awaiting a sunnier day.

A family relaxes on a pebble beach, the young at heart skip stones, the four-legged wag their joy as they fetch floating sticks. Energetic teens pull stunts on the water with raucous jet skies, creating a whirlpool pattern on the surface.

The tranquil dock is occupied by a detailed boater and a patient fisher, relishing in the mild day.

White and gray sea birds drag their Gordon fisherman yellow legs while landing and taking off from the glassy water top, intermittently snagging a tiny fish and swallowing it whole.

With the rocking music serenading the bar and grill customers and the wide expanse before me, I anticipate a more congested and active environment when the sun kisses this resort area. But, for now, it is perfect and dream-like.

A Simpler Life

Nostalgia. It is a bittersweet state of being. Today, it was much more sweet.

When I left the Sister Bay post office, I was considering the city park in front of my car. In the background, an adult's playground filled with big boy toys and an expansive canvas on which to use them. In the foreground, the simpler pleasures of yesterday.

I reflected on the days when a push on a swing or a slide down a corkscrew led to hours of entertainment and pounds of joy. What happened to the time when wrapping paper, boxes, or tossing a wood chip brought instantaneous laughter? Why does the plunge of your stomach being pulled to the ground while the swing pulls you skyward no long guarantee an emotional rush? When did things become so complex?

I thank God for the example of simplicity through children. An ear-piercing screech of joy or a contagious giggle can truly lighten a day and bring a smile to a face of consternation. What a beautiful gift!

Bing, The Cherry Musical

Door County has a rich history. The yearlong and seasonal residents are extremely well versed in their county lore and the pride is apparent.

Cherries were a prevalent crop in the county for years. Now they are the 5th largest grower of the fruit. But, you can't throw a stone without hitting a cherry infused treat. Cherry ice cream, cherry crepes, cherry pancakes, cherry wine, cherry pie, cherry salsa, cherry jam, cherry magnets, cherry hot pads, cherry festivals, cherry t-shirts, cherry postcards and even a cherry musical comedy.

This evening, I witnessed the "world premiere" of "Bing, The Cherry Musical." It was performed by a troop in Peninsula State Park. Their venue was an amphitheater amongst the trees and mosquitos. Thankfully, the mosquitos did not pay for their seats tonight. The orchestra consisted of two electric pianos, an electric bass and a drum set.

The set was simple only because the company performs three plays throughout the summer, never the same from night to night.

The trees were hung with speakers and lights while benches filled the manmade clearing.

And... they have a rain policy. That would be, should it sprinkle throughout the show, the audience sits in the drizzle and the players slide around on stage. Veterans of the location came with padded seats, blankets, rain ponchos, rain coats, rain hats, trash bags, but no umbrellas. In investigating the crowd, it was obvious who had attended a prior performance.

To start off the show, audience members participated in a cherry pit spitting contest. Then it began to drizzle. It drizzled at various levels of intensity through the first half of the show and then it was just cold. Layers were piled on; however, not one patron relinquished his seat. Diehards, all of us. The ones I felt sorry for were the players, wearing summer costumes as the temperature dropped below 60 degrees. But, the show must go on and it did successfully.

It was a delightful evening concluding a delightful day. I really wanted to be up on that stage performing, singing and having fun. Maybe in my next life. I think I'll get a ticket for "Guys and Does" next week.

Rod-2; Laurel-1

It is official. The shower curtain has remained in it's lofty position for 24 hours. I think I can give myself a point for that. It even survived 2 showers. Who will win this stand-off? Dun-dun-dun!!!

Fresnel Lenses

I took a trolley tour of Door County lighthouses a couple of days ago. Those pictures and that knowledge will be shared in another posting. Right now, I just want to focus on the light, the beam, the beacon, the spot, the saving grace.

Imagine, if you will, being on board a floating vessel at night and the weather becoming dicey. Clouds have rolled in and the threat of a powerful storm looms overhead. The new moon offers no visible reprieve and the lantern on board projects about 3 feet in front of the bow. You promised your loved ones you would arrive in a timely manner with the catch of the day but time just got away from you. The sense of isolation is thick as you wonder what direction will take you to a place of refuge. And, then you see it. A beam is reaching out over the bay as if the hand of God was pulling you towards a safe harbor. Relief rushes over you as you get your bearings and gather your wits. Home is a feasible goal and the warm embrace of your family is moments away.

Many a captain has faced such a dilemma, likely much worse, in the waters surrounding Door County. Loss of life was rampant until the communities constructed a beacon in 1836, the first of 12 in the county. Men had been playing with the concept of creating a light source capable of projecting for miles over the centuries. They had to construct a tower tall enough, on the right part of land and generate a massive light source that needed 24 hour tending. Then the idea of convex lenses that could manipulate the light and offer a beam that could be seen for miles came about. The act of installing such a large piece of glass was precarious at best, but it was an improvement.

Then Augustin-Jean Fresnel developed a lens made of multiple prisms, easier to install and maintain and capable of casting a beam for 20 miles. The first lens was installed in a lighthouse in 1823 and they are still in use. No better lens has been created.

The thing that fascinates me the most is the bigger picture. That guiding light concept is very real in our lives today. Few of us are in need of a Fresnel lens to direct a ship to dock, but all of us are offered such a guiding light. It warms me to think about the Guiding Light God offered us so freely.

I look back on my life and if I am completely honest with myself, God has shone the way for me from day one. Do I always choose to follow the path He is illuminating? Emphatically and embarrassingly, no. But the beam is constantly lit. The kind word of a stranger, the prodding suggestion of a parent, the contagious laughter of a friend, the sudden realization of a student, the mellow cooing of a dove, the synchronized ballet of cattails, the locomotive strength of the wind, the quiet moment in the morning, the ultimate aha of a journal passage, the sweet message of a pastor, the uplifting enthusiasm of a sibling, the bitter rejection after an interview, the surprising death of a marriage, the sorrowful loss of a loved one, the life story of a sage, the new knowledge after reading, the pleasant discovery of a gift, the vibrant vision of an artist, the poetic phrasing of a writer, the harmonic blending of a sonata, the rejuvenating effort of exercise, the curious investigation of a place... I know my list will continue to grow until my last breath. Yours is just as rich and unique.

I believe that God is everywhere and He uses everything to help us see Him and ourselves for who we really are. I spend a great deal of time alone. I recognize He is calling me out of that hibernation I consider safe. But, I have learned that when I pull myself away from the everyday and experience a journey alone, I am more observant about what He has to show me. It is during these times of exploratory solitude that I acknowledge all aspects of my life, the formidable and the facile, can bring me closer to Him.