I can still recall lying groggily in bed in the predawn hours, hearing my dad up and about, getting ready to head out to the deer stand. I could hear the cold wind blowing and the frozen tree branches rattling outside my window, and I knew daylight was still hours away. I was only too happy to settle back into my warm covers and go back to sleep.
Somehow, I found myself doing the “YMCA” on the top bleacher behind the Hermantown band.
I’m not quite sure how it happened, but it must have been the magical quality of a late autumn eve under the “Friday night lights” of a high school football game.
As my husband and I opened our Minnesota Atlas and Gazetteer to the map of Lake County, we discovered two brown blotches right about the area of Finland that looked like open pit mines. We chuckled when we discovered they were actually coffee stains from one of our previous trips up the Shore.
“Go ZACH!” the deep voice shouted. “C’mon, Zach – POUND ’em!”
With my grandmotherly indignity aroused, I stared pointedly at the man seated just down the metal bleachers from us. The look was all for naught, however, since the doting father was so ensconced in his son’s football performance that he didn’t even notice me.
The butterfly must have been desperate for a quick sugar “fix,” or maybe it just craved something wet in the blazing heat of the day, because it totally ignored the flowering plants nearby and hit straight for the good stuff.
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