The time is 1:33 pm on a sunshiny quiet Sunday. I returned back to home base in Escanaba, Michigan early in the wee hours of still darkness this morning.
The house is muted but for the sweet melody of Dr. Dog from my laptop and the clinking of the keyboard. The wind is gently rustling the leaves outside.
My mind is occupied with a nonstop reel of irreplaceable memories that I’ve accrued over the past month. A twinge of unease melts through my mind every time I realize that this adventure is over, the people I’ve spent the past month with will probably never be together all at once again, and the experiences we’ve shared are no more than memories at this point. It was so wonderful; exactly, perfectly what I needed from life.
I want badly to be back overlooking Douglass Lake rippling smoothly as songbirds chirp from the canopy and people thread back and forth across the paths on UMBS property throughout the day.
It felt like the quintessential, endless summer.
Except then it ended and now I’m here trying to come to terms with it. I’m searching for a way to shape together all the experiences in such a way that I can look back at them as a formulated unit rather than scraps and fragments of memories easily lost in the jumble of life. I’m trying to conclude it gracefully.
This is proving to be a rather burdensome task.