On the back of the carriage seat we rode on through the Mackinac State Park, someone had placed an apt sticker. We knew what row we were in because of that.
We had 7 minutes to run over and look at this natural formation. The scientific reason for this phenomenon is erosion but the Indigenous story was much better. The beach down below was relatively quiet. It was quite a difference between the beaches in Portugal and Michigan’s. Our driver yelled Marco and we responded with Polo so we knew we had to get back to the tour.
I almost forgot this little beauty. At the butterfly conservatory, there was a terrarium out on the porch with a sign that read “Warning! Attack Turtle” only it was empty. We found out why when the guide at the Wings of Mackninac explained that she took this little tortise out with her when she went on lunchbreak so the newly found friend could enjoy a rich harvest of dandelions.
After we left the tour carriage, we walked down a steep hill. At the bottom of the hill, across from a large park, we found this church. The door was open. We agreed that going in as UU’s was rather obligatory. The hymns and readings were still up from Easter.
We found this directly across from the entrance. We took it seriously, quietly ushered ourselves in, sitting in a pew farthest from the door. A family was in there and the kids were making all sorts of uncorrected noise. After they left, we settled into the peace only to have two older women come in, sit at the back, and talk on their phones. We stayed until we’d looked up the hymns and readings.
Water dancing on the haint blue ceiling. Jen and I were lightly surprised to see such a cajun tradition carried on that far north.
For some reason, there are two signs for the Mackinac State Harbor. We got pictures of both.
I’m vibing with the wooden version of the sign, what about you?
This is one of my favorite pictures of Jen because I was making her laugh so hard she was literally doubled over. I’m not even sure what I was saying to her, but it sure did get her giggler.
A gigantic lilac bush that smelled utterly pure.
A bit of VanGogh brought to you by the Detroit Institute of Arts. It was just hanging around on the harbor path.
Beauty comes in so many subjective forms. These pretties were just hanging out in a field of grass we walked through.
I’m pointing to the seal and the letter M because…Mare.
The view from our room at the Cedar Hill Lodge.
Mare Martell 