I’m a person who likes the same places. I envy people who are curious and travel to strange places and I aspire to be like them. But left alone, I would go where I always go.
And it would be here. On the Lake Superior beach just east of the Pictured Rocks in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.
For years, my family would visit the U.P. We’d spend a week on a small lake and, like a sacred ritual, we’d drive up to Grand Marais on Lake Superior to walk on the beach and have a whitefish sandwich at the Sea Gull Restaurant.
Every year, we would walk past a big brown beach house and I’d envy the people who owned it. We’d sit on a log on their beach, swat at the giant black flies and marvel at the brown house owner’s good fortune.
What is it that separates us from…
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