Out in Michigan

I wrote last time about getting out into nature here in Michigan. I try to think of why this feels different—than say Chicago, in Uptown, where I was literally 2 blocks from the lake.

The lake was a lifesaver all the while living in Chicago. As a poor person, I might not be able to go to the movies or stop in whenever I wanted to at Starbucks for a catch-me-up cup, but I could always for free go to the lake, stand by the shore and feel like a rich person.

All that changed under the pandemic when Mayor Lori Lightfoot shut down the lakefront, banned people from congregating in the parks, and put up fences keeping us out. To be fair, I saw it comin’. The first nice-ish day after lockdown everyone and their brother was out. I thought then this will not last—and sure enough the next day the hammer came down. Police were stationed at all access points into the park and lakefront.

Now, I did get out, or tried to once a day. I’d go down the hall at my building and see if my friend’s thirteen year old autistic son wanted to go for a walk. Greyson was a bear of a boy and despite his disabilities (mostly non-verbal) he was a true teenager. He’d look at me with his green-grey hazel eyes and basically flip me off. But, always, eventually he got up and put on his shoes to go out.

Here I was an older white woman in a bucket hat with a towering black/brown young man going down the sidewalk. It was an act of love for both of us. Yet, the walk did not soothe my need for nature—or maybe it wasn’t enough nature to cure my stress or heal my aching heart. I needed more.

That’s why Michigan, the Harris Nature Center and all the other little corners I’ve found so far have been so helpful, to ease the confusion and pain of the last couple of years. It’s a easy now as simply walking outside or a quick ride on my bike or short drive in the car—and I’m there.