Falling for Fall

     Every autumn the leaves begin to change color and the weather slowly shifts into the foreshadowings of winter. While driving down Lakeshore Dr. I came to the realization that I have only encountered this change 20 times in my life, yet is seems so normal. I rush around autumn and before I can blink, it is done. This year I wanted so badly to avoid rushing through this amazing season.

     



          In an attempt to capture the death of summer and the birth of winter, Ollie, my boyfriend, and I set out on a hike to Kirk Park in West Olive, Michigan. Leaves concealed the paved pathways as if to take them back to nature. This was the perfect fall day to take a walk through the woods. Ollie's tail flailed, erect with amusement as he trampled through the fallen leaves. We walked and we watched the autumn sun play among the trees.








       The pathway opened up to reveal the lake, angry with large waves. The wind cut through my jacket with quick gusts. We stood and took in Lake Michigan as the waves crashed repetitively against the shore until the wind became too much. Then we decided to head back to the car, however we encountered a small hiking trail that we decided to wander on.

       Here, we were completely immersed by autumn. We came to Kirk Park to be surrounded by fall and we found it here on the small hiking trail that we almost walked past without a second glance. The trail swerved on and on, and every tree continued to entice me with the fall colors they displayed. Orange, red, yellow, brown, and green reflections chased their way across Ollie's fur as we walked through the woods.



      This trip to Kirk Park was just what we needed. I came to the realization that after 20 years of seeing summer fade to fall, it still holds the power to take my breath away.

The Lily Pads

           Slowly I stir from a deep sleep, and realize that the smell of breakfast cooking on the stovetop is what has awaken me. For once, waking up seems pleasant, and I welcome it knowing that the week will hold nothing but relaxation and the absorption of my favorite place in the world, my families cottage.
         After waking I wander into the family room to look out the large windows at the mist rising off of the lake. The sight of the lake is just enough to make the viewer yearn to touch it. I then grab my camera and head out to the lake where I go for a morning paddle while it is still calm and free of jet skis.

My feet hit the concrete steps descending towards the dock that has been levitating above the lake since I was a young child. As I approach the sand I begin to smell the lake. The damp moist air that rises off of the water brings back memories from years ago.






     

        I finally reach the boat and cannot help but notice the way the light from the reflection of the water dances off it. This is what I have been waiting for all year long. I enter the old row boat and begin to make way towards the lily pads. There is no motor on our boat, just the two oars that make a lovely gulping noise as they plunge into the surface of the lake. My arms begin to burn with a sensation that is uncomfortable yet welcomed. I am not used to the back and forth rhythm of moving a boat across the water.






After some time of rowing and an aching echoing through my arms, I finally reach my destination, the lily pads. For the past 20 years I have enjoyed coming here and watching the turtles heads sink beneath the surface of the water when the ripples from my oars reach them. I love to look for frogs hopping from one lily pad to the next. The sun soaks into my skin and I can tilt my head back and breathe. This is what it means to live. This is the most peaceful place I have ever been. Before leaving I pick one lily blossom to set in a vase in the kitchenette as if to steal a small moment from my trip to the lily pads.