My wife and I attended an unforgettable wedding reception in Indiana last month. The venue: Riley’s Roadhouse, an old train depot converted into a Bed & Breakfast. Outside, in the evening air, live music played and freight trains barreled by every fifteen minutes en route to Chicago. An old Stuedebaker automobile, converted into a food truck replete with a brick pizza oven, continually churned out gourmet creations.
We passed the beautifully warm night on the shores of Lake Michigan. The following day, Sunday, brought tropical temperatures and a stiff wind out of the west. We drove through towns along Michigan’s west coast up to Muskegon. That evening, we witnessed one heck of a storm come in over the great lake. The front, with its gale force winds, brought spectacular waves in a scene very much resembling that of a hurricane making landfall.
September ushers in hurricane season, a titanic battle between summer and fall. Here in Michigan, thousands of miles from the tropics, the trees warm in a sea of colors while the prevailing northern winds buffet their branches, splashing the sky with yellows, oranges, reds, and browns. While, frankly, I’m not ready for the summer to end we do get to enjoy one heck of a show in the northern country.