Dreaming of Land

I rush through my bowl of Cinnamon Life or Cheerios or whatever in a smaller than average kitchen in a home that definitely falls under what is considered an average value in a location that is definitely considered less than optimal. There was no reason for me to waste time by enjoying the savory taste of kids’ breakfast cereal this morning – or any morning for that matter, for today and many more to come; the Great Outdoors beckoned my attention. Come to think of it, every day as a child I was lured, pulled, tempted to exit the indoors for the splendid out-of-doors.

Though I didn’t know it then, the three acres of land where I spent the first 17 years of my life seemingly fell into my parents’ hands in a rather awkward way. While I only heard the story once while young, I believed it happened something like this: First, due to the extremely weird luck that there was a 400 acre parcel of land that had one of its corners cut by a snowmobile trail and, second, due to the sheer geographical instance that placed that cut corner at the intersection of 3 counties (Emmet, Cheboygan, and Charlevoix), and, third, that through some weird communication of two potential land buyers (my father being one of them) an agreement was reached that sold 397 acres to the soon-to-be-neighbor and the corner 3 acres to my father. But whatever happened, my family was granted this beautiful parcel in the very southeast corner of Emmet County, which thankfully, is just inside the Petoskey School District (this being an advantage I only realize today).

So there it was – this amazing triangle of a parcel that my parents struggled to get electricity and telephone lines to. For some reason, I think they had to pay for it but I don’t recall. The ...

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...des property. It provides security. It provides experience. And most importantly, it provides life. My life as child was molded by the landscape in which I grew up. My knowledge of trees, plants, birds, and insects was developed so early in life because land was like an educational workshop on nature. I didn’t fear snakes, bees, or large mammals because we shared that land. I hope that someday my children will have the opportunity along with the curiosity and excitement to explore land for what it is: everything. Land is not just property bounded in a geographic place. Land is more. It is that place where you can go back to in memory and in dream. It is some place that is triggered by a smell or emotion. In essence, it is life and all of my great memories return to three secluded acres in Northern Michigan that will always, no matter what, remain home.