American author Henry David Thoreau built a one-room shack on Walden Pond and lived in it for two years. He hoped that immersion in nature and a simplified lifestyle of introspection would help him gain insights into human nature and society. His book about it became a bestseller. (There’s a wonderful new documentary about him on PBS.)
My DIY house on Huron Bay is bigger, but I do immerse myself in nature and introspection in hopes of more understanding. In a way, I’m trying to replicate in Michigan in the 2020s what Thoreau did in Massachusetts in the 1840s. I doubt a bestseller will result. It doesn’t matter. For now, observing is what matters. In photos and captions below, my return to remote northern Michigan, Spring 2026.
I always breath more deeply when I arrive in the Upper Peninsula during my 1,000-mile drive from Washington D.C. The skies are clearer and wider up here.
As soon as I arrive at Camp Many Moons on Huron Bay, I walk the grounds to see what the water level is, what’s sprouting, and what the little inlet looks like. I do this even before unpacking.
The evening of my arrival was cloudy…the moving, multi-colored kind.
The watercraft stacked against a woodpile awaited discovery. They didn’t have to wait long.
I was on the water the next morning under an increasingly-threatening sky.
I knew these fishermen were watching the sky and knew when to scoot for home. So did I.
I took this picture from my waterfront just as the lightning started to strike.
After the storm passed, I went back out to explore the unused southern piece of my land on the other side of the ditch, which is dead in winter but comes alive with deep grasses and ferns in summer.
I reach it by this simple plank bridge that Jeff thoughtfully laid down years ago and is lasting well.
I’m so delighted at the lupin growing along the ditch! I pulled plants from the roadside years ago, harvested and dried the seeds, and planted them where I needed color. Voila! I had no luck planting seeds from cedar trees, though. The thing about planting seeds, in nature and in society; some “take” and some don’t. Many factors affect our efforts, and it’s never a “failure.”
On my 2nd kayak outing, I found this patch of lupin on a spit of land a mile or so up the bay from me. I didn’t realize it could grow on the a sandy beach! Its resilience gives me hope…
Sometimes things will sprout without our effort, like these thimbleberry plants near my ditch. Thimbleberries have the most luscious taste but are short-lived and fragile. (I’ve never seen them cultivated.) I haven’t seen a berry here yet, but with the right conditions, delightful surprises can occur. The trick is to not expect or look for them.
Evening #2 was still. I’m equally fascinated by nature’s display on water and on land, but there’s something about water that draws me out of myself. And sometimes inside myself. (Oddly, it can feel like the same thing.) Reflected clouds bring to mind how our body can reflect our emotional state, but also how one belligerent and influential voice can be reflected in society. I wonder what Thoreau – who wrote “Civil Disobedience” as well as “Walden” — would make of our society today.
On Huron Bay, deep thoughts are intermixed with no-thought. (I admit that “no-thought” comes hard to me.) When I look at my beautiful new house from the water, I sometimes wonder…should I have kept it more rustic, maybe just put up a yurt? After all, nature is the reason I’m here and I’ve always cared more about experiences than material things. But then I wouldn’t be able to spend winter here, or have visitors. And I turn 68 this month. Comfort and security will matter more with time. As they say, “growing older isn’t for sissies.” I hope I’ll be strong about becoming weaker…but not yet! 😉
For Many Moons 