As Sue and I motored off to Doyle Park last Friday, we found ourselves distracted by the dust rising from a field along Pontiac Trail. It was pink.
Some parts of the country have red earth. Daughter Number Three lives in such a place. We, however, do not. Any dust rising from the ground around here is what we think of as dirt-colored—brown. This dust, being stirred up by the many people running in the field, was pink. Sue wondered if a color run might be under way.
As I understand it, color runs started as part of the Hindu festival, Holi, which happens in the spring and celebrates, among other things, the colors of spring and the triumph of good over evil. Such runs in our part of the world may or may not have specific connections to Holi, having become joyful, noncompetitive runs. Participants have colored powder thrown on them as they pass various stations along the course.
Sue’s guess was a good one. Later that afternoon, I passed a bunch of middle-school-aged kids in white tee shirts. The kids looked spent and happy, and their shirts had big, bright splotches of color. Who knows what they looked like a moment afterward, though, as that was when the heavens opened and poured down rain.
This week, my sister Marilyn drove up from Ohio, picked me up in Ann Arbor, and kept on going to our sister Carol’s house in the northern Lower Peninsula. We spent the night there with Carol and family, then caught a plane on the other side of upper lower Michigan, traveling to Beaver Island, the largest island in Lake Michigan.
The pilot warned us the trip would be bumpy, and it was. But most travelers on Island Airways are repeat customers with great faith in the pilots. They also appreciate fine flying. When Brandon set the plane down at our destination, he received sustained applause. Then, far from letting the accolade go to his head, he said, “Now, sit tight for a moment, and I’ll get the stool.” On Island Airways, the pilot loads and unloads the cargo and passengers, in addition to flying the plane.
It is quite wonderful, at Carol’s place on the island, to gaze out the front windows at one of the Great Lakes. These and the thousands of inland lakes quintessential Pure Michigan. It’s also much earlier in the spring here than it is in Ann Arbor or in southern Ohio, where Marilyn lives. Daffodils are still blooming. And Carol, who knows where to look, can show us where such lovely wildflowers as showy lady’s slippers are coming up and getting ready to bloom.
We’ve made a couple forays to the north end of the island, making stops at the grocery store, a thrift shop, and a pottery, so far. The grocery store was surprisingly good, given that nearly everything in it gets here on a ferry boat. The resale shop was fun and quirky, as such places tend to be. We all made a small purchase and were pleased to help the community by doing so, as proceeds from the shop support the island’s fire department and emergency medical service crews.
We didn’t know what to expect, when we turned off the main road at a hand-lettered sign that said, “POTTERY.” St. James Pottery Studio is a gem. Larissa McGinnity and her husband, Mark Engelsman, make everything they sell. They also sell everything they make.
The three of us were the first visitors of the shop’s summer season, and we were spoiled for choice. So many gorgeous things to choose from! We kept interrupting each other’s chats with, “Look at this one!” There was such variety of form, function, color, glaze. There were multiples of one item—copper-colored tiles with a gingko leaf design—and even on these, the gingko leaf on each was unique. Mark told us that gingko leaves are as unique as snowflakes, and that the leaves they use for the tiles come from a tree on the property.
We were not in a hurry to leave the pottery and noticed that the longer we were there, the more Larissa and Mark smiled.
“You have no idea how you three have cheered me up,” Mark finally confessed. “You have totally made my day.”
“Yes,” Larissa added. “We work all winter, and no one comes. We’re not open. So it’s months without affirmation. Then you come, and you like what we’ve made. You notice, and you like it. This is so great.” Given that we all made purchases, the potters probably kept smiling even after we were gone.
24 May 2024