Create with Kim!

Parking at Wetmore landing, I am greeted by the cool of the woodland and blooming thimbleberry plants. I know my destination, the rocks of the lakeshore big granite bemoths smoothed by time, waves, and sand. This year the water levels are low and I can manage walking out to a new sitting spot with only cuffing my jeans. I balance two journals, my sandals, a small white bag from Third Street Bagel, and a 160z coffee. It is 9am, water calm as glass, 70 degrees and slightly humid. The sun glares of the water and a haze is on the horizon. I want to skinny dip but I hear the voices of men on the wooded trail that circles this landing.

Stretching in the sun, my back adjusts to the curve of the stone. My eyelids, closed, reflect shimmering waves of light the same as the glistening water. Songbirds sing a morning song in the nearby woods. I can hear work at the power plant and a few cars passing on the highway. Water laps granite and I decide to brave the waters. I slip from my jeans and slide down the salt and pepper granite to where the green seaweed forms a slimy coat to the rock. I am up to my waist before the full alarm of my body registers that Lake Superior is still hypothermic cold. I scramble for an easy way up onto solid rock. Needles. Pain. I cannot find a handhold to boost myself from the waters and I have to expose myself to the shore in order to climb up.
 
No one is around so I let the heat of the rock and sun dry my body before slipping into my blue jeans again. A butterfly flits up to my face and beats his wings against my neck and shoulder. I feel shiny and electric. This place urges me to let loose and I am happy to listen to my senses.

I walk out pink and red granite standing as far out int the great lake as I can for Tai Chi and Qigong practice. Cloud Hands. Parting the Clouds. Silk Reeling. I have soft gaze not focused but aware. A family is on the shore enjoying the beach. Golden Retriever. A mom and dad, small boy of not yet two. Returning to my journals everything is vivid. Fluorescent green pollen left behind by higher waves has left new temporary coloring on this pink granite. Under the water, crevices of rock look deep red. I kneel and notice grains of clear quartz the size of rock salt granules.

Back on the woodland path under towering oak and red pine I return to my car. A spider’s web sticky silk clings to my face and hair. Gravel under my bare feet is uncomfortable but I do not stop to put on sandals.  A mosquito buzzes my ear and I think what distraction am I to these insects?