NIGHT FALLING ON EPHRAIM VILLAGE
The sunset might be spectacular this evening. The clouds are low, but just above the sight line for a great horizontal coloring. Trying to decide if I am going to stick around and see if my prediction will come to fruition. I brought layers, a note pad and my camera, all that is required to enjoy the sun's farewell. Of course, it is also a prime time to do some fascinating people watching.
It is 50 degrees, close to 8 PM and families as well as couples are swarming into Wilson's for their nightly treat. I am just as guilty. I am the lone soul sitting out on the enclosed porch with a tiny heater pointed my way. Even the waitress has abandoned me. Here I sit with my very large scoop of Chocolate Peanut Butter Explosion, swaying to teeny bopper tunes of old and sipping my hot tea.
Kids are running out with gigantic scoops precariously hanging over their cones, milky rivers flowing down the edges and yet, the ball of sugared cream has a Herculean grip on the rim. No matter how the kids bend, jostle, twirl or run, their flavor of choice maintains its perch.
Adoring couples step in out of the unusually cool evening to acquire a solution to their sweet tooth cravings and then consume and saunter along the edge of the bay, shivering. Husbands bolt in, leaving their significant other in the running and heated trucks. They return with a frozen sphere on a cone in each hand to be enjoyed and likely provide a sticky film for the console or floorboard.
You just don't pass up a scoop from Wilson's when you are in Door County, especially if you are staying in Ephraim.
Earlier this evening, I attended a fish boil at the Old Post Office Restaurant in Ephraim Village.
Earl T. Jones, the boil master, really put on a show. He boiled 20 gallons of water along with 1 quart of salt, all the while stoking the fire and entertaining the 65 person crowd with tales and fish jokes.
"We a-perch-iate your participation."
"How do fish pray? Holy Mackerel."
"I better 'clam' up or I'll give you a 'haddock.' "
The red potatoes boiled for about 10 minutes and then were joined by white onions. Finally, the star of the show, Lake Michigan White Fish that are leaner than trout and do not respond to the hook, joined the roiling bath.
The timing was an exact science, preventing the main course from becoming goop. The finale entailed moving all spectators behind their benches, encouraging shutter action on the count of 4 and kerosene thrown on the fire.
As the flames engulfing the wood beneath the kettle leapt, the oil of the fish that had risen to the top of the pot also ignited causing at least an 8 foot blaze. Although this offered a sensationalized conclusion, the intent was to burn off and boil over all fat, sediment and unwanted particles prior to serving.
More great people watching. Earl, 72 years old, has been the restaurant's boil master for 13 years. He knew how to flirt and captivate. The effusive couple from Florida by way of North Carolina and now Madison, WI did not meet a stranger. They had a connection with everyone they encountered. Life is clearly a joy to them. The Russian family had obedient kids that visited the facilities at one misstep and returned red faced and quieter. While the minuscule mother took charge of discipline, dad plowed through his fish dinner. The elderly couple next to me cleaned absolutely everything off their plates and then discussed how they had planned for every calorie including the cherry pie a la mode. The larger family table across from me was engaged in a small reunion. Two kids, parents and both sets of grandparents were part of the vacation. Three of the adults ordered fried chicken and it was passed around until every bone was stripped clean. Granddaughter had the hot dog option and Dad enjoyed ribs. Only two people partook of the main ingredient of a fish boil.
The view that mesmerized me the most was watching dad interact and care for the infant son. First, the bottle was consumed and then dad started in on his ribs, though he had skipped lunch. When fussing ensued, out came the pureed fruit. Each spoonful was taken by both dad and the child. Child's hunger waned with each swallow while dad gulped air; lips, teeth and tongue duplicating each action of the cherub's face. When junior started playing with his food, dad reprimanded with a joke and stopped providing the tool of inappropriate entertainment.
No frustration showed on dad's face. His level of patience was remarkable. He was completely present throughout the entire process. Sacrifice of personal hunger in no way guided his tempo or actions. It was purely beautiful.
In writing about this I see how that dad is truly a great example of our Heavenly Father. Sure, God has His vision, commandments, laws and power. But... first and foremost, God is love. The peace and joy that that dad displayed has to be how our God looks on us!
I imagine Him moving His arms and legs as we negotiate something we have yet to master. I envision Him lovingly shaking His head at a choice we make and then just removing the temptation that causes the distraction if we had had the foreknowledge to request He protect us during the day. I see Him giving us His entire attention.
He loves us. He really, deeply loves us! If only we were daily exposed to examples of what that love looks and feels like so we could completely believe and trust such a concept.
Well, there goes the celestial fireball. Imagine the rays and warmth enveloping me are also surrounding you. He is giving us a sincere assurance that He loves us, every single thing about us.
Isn't His voice radiant?
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