I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.
Shakespeare, Midsummer Night’s Dream
Summer in Michigan has faded to a memory, or perhaps the expectation of its return next year, but the autumn sun still has enough warmth to beckon you to local trails.
I sat there and forgot and forgot, until what remained was the river that went by and I who watched… Eventually the watcher joined the river, and there was only one of us. I believe it was the river.
Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs:
Come, my friends,
‘T is not too late to seek a newer world.
–Alfred Tennyson, Ulysses
On the shore of a Northern lake, the lingering dusk is a sheltering cloak, an invitation
Getting off the beaten path in Michigan can lead to a window to a world of still waters and silent forests, where tufted clouds coast across a summer sky.
Pigeon River state forest, Michigan
Every path but your own is the path of fate; keep on your own track then.
–Henry David Thoreau
The spirit of liberty is the spirit that is not too sure that it is right; the spirit of liberty is the spirit which seeks to understand the minds of other men and women; the spirit of liberty is the spirit that weighs their interests alongside its own without bias.
Judge Learned Hand, 1944
…and alas a spirit that is noticeably absent from the current
political and cultural landscape.