if you listen

We drove up to Door County, Wisconsin, the Sunday before Labor Day, the three of us.  We left after church, after bustling around to get ready, to get where we needed to be when we needed to be there, and then we were on our way, and after 5 hours or so, we were there. 

I'd never been to Door County before, but it will give you some idea of how I felt about it if I tell you that every hour or so I said something like, "This is wonderful."  "This is so nice."  "This is AWESOME." 

We stayed in a cottage we rented for two nights from a woman at the church.  There was a hammock right out front, a fire pit over to the side, and trees everywhere.  There were other cottages not too far away, and a lake you could see from the window.  There were two bedrooms, a living room with two couches, a fully-stocked kitchen (except for coffee filters - and I'll tell you, paper towels are not the same).  There was a sandy beach a mile down the road, and a petting zoo 20 miles down the road.  The weather was sunny and mild and just gorgeous.  There was no tv.  There were no phones, except for our cell phones (on roam).  There was no computer, no internet.  There was nobody else we had to see except each other and our dog, who also loved the trip. 

The first night we unloaded our stuff and looked around.  Katie went in and out the screen door, staying in sight, talking to Molly, talking to her imaginary friends, smiling, puttering around.  The dog was obviously in heaven.  After a little while, we put Katie in her bathing suit, grabbed towels, and drove over to the beach, which turned out to have one of the most gradual inclines of any beach I've ever been to, so that Katie could walk 20 feet ahead from us and still not be in water higher than the middle of her thighs.  I wore my camera around my neck and took picture after picture.  Later, when it was getting dark, we went back to the cottage and ate hot dogs.  Geoff and I drank beer.  We started a fire in the fire pit, got lawn chairs out of the storage shed, pulled green branches off of nearby trees, roasted marshmallows, and made s'mores.  Katie went to bed happily, and Geoff and I sat in the living room, with the lamplight glowing yellow, and talked.  I went to bed about an hour later, good-tired and sleepy.

The next day Katie was up with the sun, and I got up with her.  She and I and the dog walked to the water and looked at the sunrise.  Katie swung on the hammock.  We made bad coffee, ate breakfast, stopped in Baileys Harbor for better coffee, drove to a petting zoo in Sturgeon Bay, ate cheeseburgers and shared a piece of cherry pie at a local restaurant.  Later, there were naps.  When I woke up first, I pulled a jigsaw puzzle off of a shelf and worked on it while Geoff and Katie slept.  Later, we went to the beach again. 

Over and over, in the car and in the cottage, we listened to Elizabeth Mitchell's "You Are My Little Bird."  We all sang along. 

On Tuesday morning Katie woke up early again, and she and I walked around outside.  She put on her tutu with her PJ top and her yellow crocs, and lay in the hammock and wanted me to push her so it swung.  We took our time gathering our things, packing up, loading the car.  I decided it would be good karma to collect kindling for the next person who came to the cottage, since there had been kindling waiting for us, so Katie and I wandered around the grass, picking up sticks and carrying them to the pile next to the firepit while Geoff took his shower. 

Later, when we were almost ready to go but were lingering, I was pushing Katie in the hammock, and the sound of "If You Listen" floated out through the screens of the cottage windows.  (If you go here and click on "You Are My Little Bird," then "listen," you can hear the song yourself.)

(If you listen you can hear
Birds sing and flowers grow
If you listen you can hear
My love for you just grow and grow

In the silence that surrounds
Deep peace and love are found
In the days that will be here
My love will call you loud and clear

And in that silent place where loneliness is found
I'll wander through the open door to look for you
And in that magic place up high beyond the clouds
Floating in a sea of dreams, I'll sing to you

If you listen you can hear
Birds sing and flowers grow
If you listen you can hear
My love for you just grow and grow)

I looked around me, trying to listen, to see, to feel, as much as I could.  I pushed Katie and thought about her and that weekend and the peace of the moment, and how she was my baby, and how someday she will be grownup, and how this moment is in the meantime, in the middle.  She lay happily in her tutu and crocs and pajamas, eyes closed, smiling.

And while I pushed her silently, while I looked at everything I could, I looked around behind me, and Geoff was standing in the doorway of the cottage with tears in his eyes. 

(A small set of photos from the trip are here.)

Comments

[Shani Ferguson]

That is so lovely, it made me cry. From the loveliness.

[Jen]

It is those rare moments that touch us so much that make this life such a lovely lovely thing. I find that I'm lucky that I see many of those moments in my life. It's obvious that you and Geoff do as well. Thank you for sharing those with us. What a beautiful song.

[maryrwise]

I think I would like to wear Katie's outfit to work one day, except it wouldn't really fit me. But it's perfect on her. Thank you for this post.

[jo]

There is nothing like getting out of town to improve the soul. Sounds like a wonderful couple of days. Lovely entry and great photos. Katie is absolutely adorable. Thanks for writing again.

[Jess]

This is a beautiful post, and it sounds like a lovely and necessary vacation. I'm glad you're back on your blog.

[jana]

Beautiful entry. We're getting quite attached to our copy of Elizabeth Mitchell, too.

[Charlotte]

You are such an inspiration--the weekend sounds like pure, sweet bliss! Love the song and will definitely include it in the playlist for our wedding.

[Anelie]

Damn you, woman! Stop making me cry in front of my children! Achingly beautiful, as usual.

[TB]

You take the most lovely photos. And seeing the world through your camera lens and your words always makes me feel. Sometimes happy, sometimes sad, but always, always I feel. Not everyone has that kind of gift.