Growing up, I wanted to have that perfect penmanship. Taking notes in high school found me pressing hard enough with my pen to ensure I could feel the ink on the back of the paper, have evenly spaced letters and words, and quite literally rip out a page if I had to scribble out a letter. Needless to say, I had no idea then how much pressure and anxiety I caused myself in the process of seeking that perfect penmanship. 

The approximate 6,000 ships that have succumbed to raging storms attest to the power of the Great Lakes. As I traveled, writing and compiling information for my three-volume travel series that explores Michigan's coasts, I heard or read the tales left behind by those ill-fated ships. They add a somber, but compelling backdrop to Michigan’s waterways. This week’s article isn’t about a specific ship. It’s about a place where many doomed vessels disappeared.

Imagine yourself pushed out from the place you have called home all your life—with only a bag containing everything you have managed to save, not knowing the next place you will lay your head, having to move to another state, country, or continent to begin to piece your life back together again. This is a reality for people all around the world, in circumstances much worse than we can ever imagine.

This summer, my husband and I undertook a move. A relocation from Massachusetts to Arizona has been undertaken by others, no doubt. We decided to make things a little more interesting than a direct route. We headed north. Our circuitous route is winding us through Newfoundland, Portugal, and North Carolina. When one would think to take the southerly route from the Carolina’s to Arizona in the winter months, we will make Bugs Bunny’s famous right turn at Albuquerque to get to Bozeman, Montana. Then, we’ll drive to Arizona.

The approximate 6,000 ships that have succumbed to raging storms attest to the power of the Great Lakes. As I traveled, writing and compiling information for my three-volume travel series, Exploring Michigan’s Coasts, I heard or read the tales left behind by those ill-fated ships. They add a somber, but compelling backdrop to Michigan’s waterways.

Today, three months after the United States Government overturned Roe V Wade (which simultaneously overturned 50 years of legal protection for the right to an abortion in America), the global conversation surrounding reproductive rights remains both important and divisive. 

Americans now join a staggering 1,070 million people worldwide who face national institutionalised barriers to their reproductive rights. 

Late summer into early autumn is often a gentle season of change. There can be storms and other drastic events as well, of course.

At this writing, there seems to be a full slate of unsettling events on the political and social fronts, as well as atmospheric ones.

Take a step, maybe a few steps back, if you can, and find time to reflect.

Whether you are able to do that just now or not, remember, too that it is possible to look for stillness, to find goodness, to look for and to be kind in the midst of upheaval.

The approximate 6,000 ships that have succumbed to raging storms attest to the power of the Great Lakes. As I traveled, writing and compiling information for my three-volume travel series, Exploring Michigan's Coasts, I heard or read the tales left behind by those ill-fated ships. They add a somber, but compelling backdrop to Michigan’s waterways.