Path to Page Workshop Part 3

Recently, I went on a day long hiking and writing workshop in the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore in Northern Michigan. The class was lead by Ann-Marie Ooman and sponsored by Preserve Historic Sleeping Bear, the park liaison group that coordinates volunteer efforts to maintain the historic buildings on the park grounds.
The hike went through the Port Oneida Historical District, which contains unoccupied homes, barns, beautiful forests and breathtaking views of Lake Michigan.
The following is an excerpt from one of my writings that day, in its first draft form.



Werner Family Cemetery

It was holy. That's what the early settlers thought of the views of Lake Michigan. The Lake, with its sparkling blue and crashing waves, was ultimately a hold place. It was customary to bury family on a hill overlooking the property. Maybe a nod to a life well lived; forever smiling down on what was accomplished and watching over family? But here, here they are also within earshot of the waves, overlooking, now through trees, the vast expanse of blue - all the way to the horizon. Where the Lake meets the sky; a symbol of eternity. This is easily a place of rest.
What Would Nature Do? Nature, which can be of such danger and unpredictability, can also comfort and soothe.
This is a holy place. Not made holy by the presence of human remains on a blessed and hallowed piece of ground, but rather recognized as holy by fellow humans over 100 years ago. Recognized as a place that they chose to create monuments to their dead and put them back into the hands of God.
This is where I want to be, at peace in this natural place, hearing the conversation of God as He "hovers over the face of the waters" and splashes on the rocks of the shore below.
These are the things that refuel me, and give me the strength to do the things I need to do. Perfect quiet, perfect peace. So rare yet so vital.
So about here is where God caught up with us on the trail - or at least me. Feeling Him fully here, I can guess that the settlers felt Him too. Comfort and resignation at the burying of their dead. Whether it meant an increase in hardship at the loss or a blessed rest of a suffering family member, God came alongside them here, as He does me even now. This is a place of reflection. I wish I could capture the feeling here with a picture. I'm sure I won't.
It is warm with a slight breeze. Cicada are humming; waves are crashing. The ground is cool and dry. Branches crunch under step. Sunlight plays through the moving leaves. Time to go...