SILVER CITY

Summer's end is always marked for me by our annual pilgrimage to Silver City, Mi. We, along with my extended family, stay in rustic cabins nestled right on the shore Lake Superior. It is a time away, looked forward to by all, when we can do whatever we want and eat more than we should. My children and their cousins mark their calendars and count down the days til they can romp and play on the beach, in the water, in whichever cabin has the best snacks.

I began this tradition and it has a lot of meaning for me besides the getting away. I came to these same cabins in 1965 and '66 with my parents, younger sister, (youngest sister had not made an appearance yet), and my paternal grandparents. I remember sitting up late at night listening to the adults talking, gathering driftwood for a fire on the beach, and the pet sheep the owners had at the time. Something like that kind of sticks in your mind. Years later, in my mid-thirties, I rediscovered this small resort while on a day-trip to Ontonagon and the Porkies with my grandmother. There was something so familiar about the place and Nana confirmed that it was where we had stayed in the sixties. I promptly went home and booked us two cabins for the following year. How wonderful that was to return there with my kids, their grandparents, and my grandmother! It has now swelled to booking four cabins and both my sisters have joined us. The price has gone up, the beach has shrunk, gas is out of sight but we all agree...this is priceless.