Wednesday, July 22, 2009
The Lake Has Ears
On one of our vacation days, we went to the Sleeping Bear National Lakeshore. To get there, you hike for two miles through the woods, then another quarter mile over the dunes. On arrival, you’re paid off with beautiful views, and miles of beachfront entirely to yourself.
I went for a run in my swimsuit, like a little girl, something you can only do on a completely evacuated beach, and saw many interesting things washed ashore: the skeleton of a large fish, a tampon applicator, a dead seagull, and a rock that was exactly the same size and shape as my oldest son’s ear. Many rocks glistened as the waves receded from the shore leaving a sudsy film in their wake, and there like a scene from the life of Van Gogh, lay an ear of stone. I picked it up thinking, “What is Nick’s ear doing here?” and took it back to our camp for him. He held it up to the side of his head to check the fit. It was an exact match, same coils, same impish fold at the top. Then he skipped it out into the lake. It was a perfect skipping stone, bounced three times before it sunk.