AT THE CHURCH O’ THE ISLAND

AT THE CHURCH O’ THE ISLAND, outside the slammin’ screen door of the Dear Old Cabin (100 years old next year) things are green and growing. Except for the rocks which are gray and weathering. A morning thunderstorm helps with both processes (albeit microscopically with the rock part). Yesterday saw the arrival of Son #1 and family, today Son #2 and family will appear. We expect berry picking may happen. A blueberry pie may happen. Fish may be caught. And devoured with gusto, fresh out of the lake. Swimming and dock jumping in various iterations, from cannonballs to belly flops, may occur. A fraught long-distance swim, from dock to beach and back again, may take place. Boat rides and sunsets will be enjoyed. Evenings may include cut-throat board games. Interrupted by much laughter and repartee. We expect these things to happen because they have been happening in this family in the North Woods for about 90 years. Not all of those years here at Fawn Island—only the last 30–and with those earlier generations now passed from the scene. But not really. They are with us still, those loved ones. In old rods and reels and lures and tackle boxes. In sheath knives and minnow buckets. In favorite jackets and hats. In old, yellowed Chinese checker boards and marbles, and photos on walls and in albums; in afghans and blankets and embroidered pillows. In hearts and minds and memories, and in values and traditions passed on and on. So here at the island, rocks weather and trees grow—including young ones planted in honor of grandchildren—and old cabins need occasional fixing-up. And a fine new guest cottage under Kathy’s direction has been built. But much of what an Up North family gathering has always meant remains. Largely unchanged. And on a summer Sunday in the year 2024, in a challenging and changing world, that feels like a blessing. Even a benediction. Wherever you find your blessings, we wish you Good Sabbath.