For People Who Love Up North
Rhythms of Leelanau
A walkabout from Suttons Bay to Glen Arbor helps our protagonist find new direction in life. A short story.
(page 3 of 4)
It must have been after midnight when I heard the splashing outside and to the north of my tent. My first impression of another porcupine encounter rationalized down to deer coming to drink in the shallow outflow to the bay. The splashing was steady and came closer and closer. Then it stopped … and the silence startled me. Gone was the wind, the wave action and the sound of the Shalda. It was dead still. The moon was now full and bright in what appeared through my thin nylon tent canopy as a hazy light shining in on me. Suddenly the “moonlight” moved and shot across my tent opening. I sat up and listened. Nothing came to my ears … not a sound. I crawled to the screen, unzipped the cover and peered outside. The “moonlight” was a large flashlight shining in my eyes from 20 feet away. I covered my eyes and said, “Is someone there?”
A voice announced, “My name is Jack, can I sit by the last of your fire?” I looked at the three dimly glowing coals and nervously said, “Yeah come on over.”
An old man, a very old man, walked over and crouched near the last embers of heat from my fire. “Sorry if I woke you, I didn’t expect to see anyone camped out here tonight.” His gray beard, permanent smile and soft eyes assured me he was no crazy. I wondered however why an old man, well into his 70’s, I’d guess, was wandering around out on the beach at this hour. My watch displayed 12:42 a.m. I threw the last couple of split logs on the dying fire and new flames followed in short order. He began to talk about the weather and the clear sky, but nothing that explained his actions. As if anticipating my question, he said, “I walk the beach late at night to remind me how fortunate I am to be here. I do it every time a full moon is out.” I looked up, and true enough the real moon was shining full into the clear dark sky.
Still puzzled by the old man I asked, “What do you mean … how fortunate?”
“I changed my life for the better.” Taking in the tattered image of the old man his statement seemed a bit over the top.
“Twenty-five years ago I left the busy business world and decided there was more to life than working for a living.”
My focus centered on the man’s words and compelled to know more I said, “What did you do back then?” The old man smiled and looked up at me. “I did anything I believed was necessary to advance my career.”
“Was that the wrong thing to do?” I struggled to find meaning in his words.
“It was costing me my family, my health and my enjoyment of life.” He paused and looked to the water. “I discovered that instead of living to work I wanted to work to live … so I changed my life and never looked back in regret.” I felt like I stopped breathing as I listened to his words. Was he describing my life as well?
“I left it all, moved up here and started working in the local community. It made me appreciate the beauty in life if you look for it. I now enjoy my work thoroughly even though I will soon retire completely. Looking back it was the best move I ever made.”
“Didn’t you worry about your financial situation, friends and family as you changed your life?”
“With my head clear of the distractions everywhere in the business world, adjustments came easy and it all fell into place.” He looked straight into my eyes as if trying to read my mind. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes, I think I do. Did everything improve … family, love of life and all that?”
“All that and more. Once you unclutter your mind of meetings, budgets, office politics and endlessly pursuing the ‘perfect life’ you realize happiness and contentment as never before.” He smiled again looked at the night sky and the millions of stars overhead. The fire was beginning to die down, and I excused myself to gather more wood near the shore, and he nodded as I walked away. As I picked up six good-sized logs I felt I could talk all night to the old man, Jack. We had been talking a long time yet I was forming my next dozen questions as I splashed back through the shallow water and approached the fire. Jack was gone … nowhere to be seen … the fire had burned out completely.
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Reader Comments:
Hey Jeff:
Wonderful job on presentation..thanks so much. I've linked to my FB page and sent a blast email to about thirty of my closest friends aware I'm doing this writing thing.
Nice job!!
Tom Eurich