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Minnesota Dreaming: Summer's Strong Pull
When I think of summer in Minnesota I think of it as winter's payoff. This is the delivery of all hope sustained during windchills endured and souls frozen over. We stay in this country because we are able; each year we prove to disbelievers that we can survive any harshness thrown before us. Summer is our one true reward.
As I look back on photos of summers past, I see the rosy-cheek innocence of my children growing up, "up north." Like prisoners sprung on an unexpected parole, they scramble to embrace life with all the joy they possess.
Paul Bunyan flourished in these parts, it's said. Trips to the North Country are enough to almost have us believing in these old legends. If the Mississippi River can originate in the rushes and reeds of a placid, tucked-away lake in Itasca, Minnesota, perhaps stranger phenomenon have sprung forth as well.
There's a golden glow that frames summer days in the North Woods. Loons invoke this feeling. Paddlers synch to its rythmn. The oaks and pines and towering elms tease us with the promise of more to come, on the drive up Highway 371. In an small, rented cabin we gather with relatives to share the moments together and breathe it in.
Over on Lake Superior, there's no fooling around. The darkest blue waters of this mammoth giant warn of its power and dare us to match it.
Whether it's the steely black rocks of Duluth's seagulled harbor or a tucked away haven, like the Naniboujou Lodge, farther upstream, Superior can't mask its ability to outsize, and out-cold this windchill-tested land. Yet it delivers a summer, however brief, to those who wait.
Every winter I wonder why we stay. We travel elsewhere - to Santa Fe, Nantucket, Morro Bay. A kaliadescope of realities beckons us from around the world.
And yet our souls are soothed each summer when we accept the gift of a gentle Minnesota summer.