My house is extremely cluttered, filled to the ceiling with stuff that really has no function other than to collect dust and occasionally stir memories. Most of it is the legacy of Willa who never saw a knick knack that wasnt just perfect for some place in this house--on a shelf, on a window sill, on a dresser or even stuffed in one of the closets, serving a purpose that always remained a mystery to me. But Im not entirely innocent and though Ive gotten rid of the most egregious clutter that Willa left in her wake, my own collection of rocks and crystals is spread throughout the house, trophies of years past when Willa and I would go rockhounding together. And so, amid the clutter, I found myself looking at a chunk of copper that I had found years ago in the Copper Country of Michigans Keeweenaw Peninsula and was immediately lost in the memories of the last time Willa and I had been there 6 years ago. The Keeweenaw is a very beautiful place and it has always been a place of refuge for me, the closest thing to wilderness in this placid cow pasture called the Midwest. Long ago we had discovered a place called Keystone Bay that is reached only by traveling for miles along a rutted clearing through the forest that can only very generously be called a road. It is nerve wracking to drive that road, never sure if the car is going to get stuck in a 4 deep pot hole or have the transmission stripped clean from the undercarriage by a boulder that was just a few inches too high to clear. But it was well worth the stress, for at the end of that road are miles of beach with no houses, no roads, no signs of civilization at all, just an endless view of Lake Superior that has remained unchanged for thousands of years. I picked up the chunk of copper, feeling the distinctive heaviness that indicates it is not just an ordinary rock, even if the reddish gold gleam of metal had not already made that point clear. I think I may go back up there this year, but it will feel so strange to be going alone. The last time I was there was just a year before Willa was diagnosed with cancer, but her addiction to narcotics had already cast a pall upon our life together. We had a good time, but it seemed slightly empty and sad at the same time, and on the drive back home I somehow sensed it was the last time wed share this place. So going back up there alone will seem very strange and Im not sure what to expect. This is now a different life, new, almost alien to me, so I suppose I should try something new. Id love to kayak along those uninhabited shores, so maybe thatll be the plan. But I have to admit that it will seem so strange to see a beautiful waterfall, or a picturesque cedar, sculpted to poetic perfection by the wind and rather than point it out to another, just remain silent and paddle on.
Posted on: Sat, 08 Mar 2014 23:00:19 +0000
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