A cabin, a family and a choice

As teachers, my wife and I know how important it is to experience new places, meet new people, alter lesson plans when needed, and take chances. Indeed, we have often visited new areas during our summer vacations, introduced ourselves to new students with revised lesson plans every fall, and finally, eleven years ago, we opted to take on an ultimate trial. Our leap into second home management began with the purchase of a sixty-five year old log cabin, with 100 foot of lake frontage in Michigan's Upper Peninsula.

Thereafter, each spring would be an exciting time for our family, especially our two children when they knew we were headed north to open the cottage. However, a realization set in every winter also when we noticed that our kids were getting bigger while our primary residence was getting smaller. The solution, build a bigger roomier home with all the amenities that our current house did not have.

There was a problem however, with a new house we could not afford to keep our summer log home, therefore we needed to sell. After months of arduous soul searching, listing the plusses and minuses of both options, the decision was made, and a realtor contacted.

The night before the meeting with the realtor I invited our two children to accompany me out on the dock. The end of a long, hot summer day was nearing. A myriad of colors splashed lazily on the pristine waters of South Manistique Lake. Suddenly, the mournful wailing of a Great Blue Heron from a cove a few hundred yards away startled the children as they sat balanced on my lap at the end of the dock.

Eric, my six-year-old asked, "Dad, what is that sound?" My nine-year-old daughter, Alex added, "Yeah, that was a really weird cry!" I calmly reassured both of them that it was indeed just a bird and then proceeded to describe in detail what this "eron" thing looked like.

Alex then innocently offered, "Dad, will we ever have another log cabin?" My wife, watching and listening intently back on shore began to weep softly. And just like that, another decision had been made.

Throughout this particular summer there were many more "dock questions" as I've so named them. However, the realization of how beautiful and pure this one scene with my children was, led me to two different thinking modes.

The first is how we, as parents, sometimes take our surrounding woods, lakes, streams and rivers for granted and often are never satisfied with what we have. Secondly, we need to take the time to let our children enjoy, partake in and ingest what is out there beyond cartoons, video games and bigger, roomier homes.

Most assuredly, the time my wife and I now spend with our children at The Cabin is precious. A fossil on the shore line a grub eyed under a rock are only the beginning of what my children can learn in one day alone. We really do need to take our kids fishing, hunting, hiking and exploring.

This vast expanse that we so seldom take advantage of today needs to be prodded, questioned, dissected and discovered by soft little hands. When we lead with a caring, nurturing hand, not only will our children be considerate and thoughtful to nature but also nature itself might in turn be more soothing and secure with us.

My wife and I almost lost the thousands and thousands of reference materials that were available to us, Up North. We took a chance; we weighed the attributes, and remain steady in our conviction to retain our lake home ensuring that future members of our family can experience the fruitful assets of a fieldtrip to the cabin.