What a disorienting fog we had this morning in Michigan! I don’t ever remember fog until late July or August, so it was very strange! Even the birds seemed subdued, and the air had a gritty, chemical feel to it that burned my throat.
Last night, I got a good picture of the moon, so I figured that with no rain in the forecast, my chances would be good to see the sunrise, finally! But then, the fog.
Jim walked out to his truck in the dark this morning and looked back at me.
“This is the day that the Lord has made. . .” he said, and waited, expectantly.
“And we will rejoice and be glad in it,” I responded, and found a smile. He smiled back and jumped into his truck.
Jim wants us to rejoice. God wants us to rejoice! Even when all looks dark, or foggy, or hazy, He wants us to remember that He is in control, and He loves us with an everlasting love. Jim was reminding me that God is bringing us life and love where before there was no hope.
As I waved him off to work, I considered: There was certainly no chance to see the sunrise, and it was a little bit dangerous to drive in the fog. So I woke up the guys to go with me (and our dear dog, Mr. Darcy, who would not be left behind!), so we set off together, rejoicing on our morning adventure!
The sun was peeking above the horizon a few minutes into our journey. I say that in faith, as there was no visible sign that a sun even existed. I would speak of gray skies, but the sky couldn’t be seen in the fog, and even when the fog broke in the low spots, or we could find a hill and get above it for a moment, the sun was hidden.
We changed targets seeing the sun was so obviously off-limits, and decided to visit the Cub Lake Party store heading south on Hillsdale Road. People in the area surely know about the store–it’s one of the few places in southern Hillsdale county where you can buy gas. They also carry groceries, and bait and other novelties, but the entrancing thing about Cub Lake is that they have the same old pumps they have had since the 1980’s.
As least, they had them the last time I went. The store has recently been sold, and I wasn’t sure if the new owner had plans to replace the pumps or not, but face it, it’s a matter of time. I wanted to get a picture of them if they were still there. And what do you know? They still are!
Those of us who were blessed to have lived in the bright disco-era 80’s, the zippered, glossed, neon-covered 80’s, with some of the best pop music of all time, I might add, may remember that the gas pumps were a bit different back then.
For one, they were mechanical. You removed the nozzle, and flipped a large lever across where the nozzle had rested, and that is what turned the pump on. You had to be sure to have that nozzle inserted into the gas tank before you flipped the lever, or the gas would come out all over the side of your car!
And two, there was no way for these pumps to put a “hold” on your card, because there was no way to “pay at the pump!” I don’t remember using credit cards much back then, but that could be the economic reality I was living in!
And three, you could watch the old-fashioned marvel of a odometer-like counter working while you pumped the gas. That mechanical pump is an interesting relic from the past, still fully functional, and still in daily use! It may be one of the last mechanical pumps in use in the country.
If you have an occasion to be down that way, why not stop by and watch them work? It might sound crazy, but I can totally see those old pumps being part of a museum someday in swanky neighborhood. Then you’ll have to pay $21 just to get in to see them, and an extra $5 to lift the pump and flip the lever. (IF they let you touch it, that is!) And you won’t get any gas, either!
But I digress. We saluted (and photographed) the old pumps and hit the road, still in search of the sun, at almost an hour past sunrise. (There is usually a great view of the sunrise from the parking lot at Cub Lake, by the way. On clear mornings, I have taken some amazing pictures from there. )
(Those trees have leaves now!)
Ah, memories. It so encourages one to look back at what went well, as we stumble on into the future, don’t you find?
So on we went, looking for another break in the fog, a hint of the sun, or something interesting. (I had to justify the gas expense at this point!!)
Then we found some deer. They were so delicate, so picturesque and young among the white wildflowers; it gave me a pause to know that not long ago they sported little white spots on their backs. It’s almost as if they shook off their youth into the undergrowth!
And then there was the Observant Hare. As long was I watched and took pictures, he maintained his dominant pose. He reminded me of a character in a Beatrix Potter children’s book. It couldn’t be Peter Rabbit, of course, but perhaps Peter’s aged uncle who lived as a grumpy hermit.
And as the morning wore on, and the patience of my sons wore thin, we turned toward home, with disappointment rising in my heart. No sun, on day three!
In a last ditch effort to find a nice picture, I turned into a place I know not far from home. The moment I turned in, Beau gasped, “There it is!”
Sure enough, the sun had risen high enough to be a faint orange circle in the haze. While we watched, it began to brighten, and I tried once more, knowing it would soon be too bright to photograph. Such a wonderful haze to bring us a picture of the surface of the sun!
(Well, less rare these days, but still!)
The adventure was so totally worth it, and had I known the end from the beginning I would certainly have rejoiced!
Maybe there is a lesson there . . .
The Fullers Four 