West Thumb water – Michigan 2013
A dock on the West Thumb of Grand Traverse Bay in Traverse City, Michigan – a warm and quiet summer evening in my hometown
It’s Superbowl Sunday 2015, and like many people in the Midwest we’re getting a lot of snow here in Chicago. It’s been snowing all day.
All the new white stuff is beautiful and everything but after shoveling the driveway twice already today, I’m daydreaming of summers in northern Michigan – sitting next to the lake with friends, enjoying the warm breezes and listening to the sweet sounds of laughter & ice clinking in glasses.
“The only writing that was any good was what you made up, what you imagined. That made everything come true. Everything good he had ever written he’d made up. None of it had ever happened. Other things had happened. Better things, maybe. That was what the family couldn’t understand. They thought it was all experience. Nick in the stories was never himself. He made him up. Of course he had never seen an Indian woman having a baby. That was what made it good. Nobody knew that.”
– Ernest Hemingway, Nick Adams Stories