This is an excerpt from an essay that appeared in the June 16 issue of The Glen Arbor Sun. You can read the full essay here.
Last month, I took swim lessons for the first time. Always a lover of the water and often the first person in Lake Michigan during a beach gathering with friends, this has been somewhat surprising information to share with people. Don't I already know how to swim? But I want to do what I love better, perhaps with a bit more efficiency and definitely with better breathing techniques.
I grew up swimming in ponds and rivers. The Great Lakes when we were lucky. It was a one-hour drive from our farm town to Caseville, where we would wade in Lake Huron's shallow bay on the hottest summer days. Pools were a luxury that never factored into all our talk of swimming. Our school did not have a swim team; there was no community pool nearby. I am not even sure that I was aware that swimming was a competitive sport until I was in high school, and even then, I paid it no mind.
Swimming, for me, was a different kind of activity. It was treading water, floating on my back, splashing with my brothers. I first learned to swim in the pond behind Clyde and Marleah's house, where I also learned to fish. We would sit on their porch in the late evening as the sun dipped over the pond. Clyde and Marleah were my Grandparents' friends, but growing up, I just knew them as a part of our family. My Grandparents had divorced and moved out of town before I was born; Clyde and Marleah lived just a couple miles down the road, so my memories of them are as an extra set of Grandparents. Marleah used to babysit us in their home, and Clyde taught us how to tend raspberry and rhubarb plants.
My mom told me once that she learned to love coffee at their house. There was always another pot put on, another cup served. An invitation to linger a little longer. Most of my memories of their home involve sitting on the porch, picking raspberries in the garden, or splashing in the pond. Never is there much movement, and I can't really picture a meal eaten at their table. I do remember the part after where we would sit around and talk. Their door always open, coffee pot on in the kitchen.
Like every other languid moment on their property, swimming at Clyde and Marleah's was not about efficiency. It was cooling down after a bike ride or a long day working in the yard. It was catching frogs and squealing when the fish nibbled our toes.
And this is how I learned to swim, what swimming has always been to me: refreshing and slow. Surrounded by others.
I am from Michigan, water wonderland. Never more than a few miles from a body of water, swimming is a state of being. Swimming holes have a tendency to become gathering places. Most memories, even now, of swimming involve a sense of community.
Speaking of community…
What types of community are you feeling nourished by lately? I am always looking for more in-person opportunities for connection: meet-ups with other young families, hikes with friends, swim dates. I have facilitated a hiking and swim club in northern Michigan for the last few years, and am curious if there is a way to extend this to our online community. If I were to create a “Swim Club” that extended out of this newsletter, how would it best serve you if you are not local to northern Michigan? A monthly online poetry circle? A group that shares stories of time in the outdoors? Share your ideas in the comments; I would love to create a virtual “Swim Club” this summer (that is, of course, paired with a local meetup for those who are able)!
Lately inspired by…
…the latest release, “Fireseed,” from Grand Rapids-based band, Phabies. They are performing in Traverse City tonight, June 20, at Brew from 6:30-8:30 pm; come listen with me if you are local!
I am reading “Tough Little Beauties” by local writer and ecologist Stephanie Mills. I found her work at our local library last winter and have been reading through her collection. Also inspired (as always) by the library.
I saw a bear run across the road in front of me last week, which was incredible. It is the first time I have seen a bear in northern Michigan, and I have been waiting for that moment. I cheered.
My garden is also a source of inspiration, especially this year, as my kale from last season is still going strong, and sunflowers and cosmos that reseeded from last year are popping up all over the place. Always learning from the ways that nature cares for itself.
Local Stockists & Events
If you live in northern Michigan, you can find my book, “Lake Letters,” at the following shops:
Farm Club
Horizon Books
Poppy Things
WestBay Handmade
Nature Walk in Empire (this is a new stockist!)
You can also shop my book and other products on my website. This is a great way to support my work, and I appreciate every purchase.
I have some events in the works for later this summer; stay tuned for details!
Thanks for following along. Feel free to share my words with other Lake and nature-loving friends!
Cheers,
Mae
I just moved to a new town and making friends has been slow going. A monthly online poetry circle with fellow nature/water lovers would be so wonderful!
Hi Mae. I am very interested in your swim club.
I have some ideas to contribute to a delightful water experience!
Maggie