I drove from Marquette, Michigan to Sault Saint Marie, Ontario today, to meet a friend I have not seen in years. We had an amazing visit and we picked up as if it had only been a week since we had last seen each other. I was reminded again how wealthy I am because I have such good friends. This friend is the ultimate conversationalist and incredibly creative and intelligent. I love her panache, her way with words and her willingness to ask the difficult questions of life.
As I drove, (through a snowstorm on unfamiliar roads I might add) I observed the unfamiliar landscape and tried to find a place for it in my own experience. Isn’t it funny how no matter where we travel or move to we inevitably compare it to what we already know. I suppose that is how we bring meaning to new experiences.
Whenever I am away from home, (wherever that may be) I try to imagine what it would be like to live there. Today, with the wind blowing off Lake Superior and the snow falling I thought about what I would like if I were to live here. I think I would enjoy the snow for a short time but it would get old real fast. I quickly dispersed of that train of thought and created an adventure story in my head. I was an adventurer, willing to risk driving in the slushy snow through unfamiliar territory to see a friend. I had a chuckle as I passed through a hamlet claiming ‘moose capital of the world’ as its claim to fame. ‘Hey, I have been to the moose capital of the world,” I imagined myself saying as I told of my adventure upon my return back to the coast.
In this area I found out that the marking of the year is done in ways unfamiliar to me. For example when I stopped at a gas station this morning to use the bathroom and ask if I was still heading in the right direction. The friendly woman behind the counter answered that I was on the right track. Then I asked if this snow was normal this early in the year she said “oh yes but then you can bet on opening day it will be a beautiful sunny day.
” Opening day? The opening day of what I thought to myself. Let’s see….opening of winter season, the local cross country trails, a new store? I got brave and asked what she mean by opening day and discovered she meant opening day for deer hunting . Ha Ha like that means anything to me. The day she was referring to is November 15th. She could just as easily told me that it was not unusual for it to snow but it would quite likely get nice again before November. Ah well, all part of the adventure story.
All this snow and talk of winter and the snowy conditions made me think of myself cozied up by the fire knitting. As I made the long drive back to Marquette I realized things seemed more familiar to me and I felt like I was heading home to Marquette. We don’t have a fire and I don’t live there but the thought of the cozy little house I have rented for a couple of weeks with my son there waiting for me and my knitting and books and crafts strewn around ready for me to pick up was comforting.
It really is amazing how adaptable we are when we allow ourselves to be. Time to pick up my knitting.