I wouldn't call it the end of the road, but...

We entered Michigan last Tuesday, stopping at Tim's parents' house for a night before heading out the next morning. We didn't head west to Grand Rapids - we made our way north to Petoskey and Charlevoix, and camped out on Fisherman's Island State Park. Last year in October we camped at this beautiful spot and huddled up against the cold to watch Lake Michigan chop against the shoreline. It was our first time sleeping in the van, and I'd surprised Tim by dragging the futon mattress into the van while he was at work. From the trip, we had our first inkling that we might be on to something with the whole futon thing.

This time back at the park, we were able to stay for free on a water site that is usually booked all summer long, but the family had called and were going to be 2 days late. I took it as a sign that we were definitely meant to stay for those days. The beloved Great Lakes were perfect for swimming. Late August is always the best because they've had all summer to warm up. While Lake Superior is my favorite, Lake Michigan is no shabby second. Being in a part of the state I love helped to soothe my sad spirit a bit.

Driving back through New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, and through Michigan from Vermont was really tough. As soon as we crossed the state line, we left slow mountainous roads, braking for passengers, and small vibrant towns behind for flat, boring expressways lined with gaudy billboards and filled with drivers that cut you off, blow past you, and just generally don't give a shit about anybody but themselves when they're in their vehicles. I think Michigan is a beautiful place; in fact, most places are. It's just that we make them so ugly. Vermont is proof that human presence does not have to be a blight.

You might say that this time around, I really fell in love with Vermont. Being around people as wonderful as Amy and Pete certainly helps, but I loved the small towns with local economies. The wild flower gardens. The veggies growing in everyone's little plot. The great coop in Montpelier. The slowness. The hiking. The promise of great cross country skiing. The general view that businesses that contribute something back to the local place are worth frequenting, and that towns need to be protected from ones that don't. I did see the downsides that I saw the last time I visited Vermont: expensive to live, lots of insular people wary of outsiders (maybe that's a side effect of feeling protective of a place), too many bumper stickers.

But enough of all that Vermont stuff. We're now back at Catye's place, and I've stayed put since the couple days we've been here getting our little attic space up to snuff. I will start venturing out this week. In our space, we have our futon set up in lieu of our bed, I have some art up on the walls and have created a little reading corner with only ONE bookshelf. But my favorite spot is a little nook where I've set up a desk just for writing and art. It's my 2' by 4' studio. And I love it. I stayed up until 2 in the morning last night writing. I am so pleased to be here with Catye in her house, cooking and puttering around. It was an unbelievable gift she gave us the last month of our trip to know we had a place to return to. I would have worried myself into a stupor.

I'm just starting to sort the trip out in my head. I'm not sure if I have all my questions answered, and that's probably a good thing. But I do have some ideas. And I have some peace. And I'm feeling really joyful right now.

Stay tuned for a post from Tim at some point.