Pedaling through the slumbering town of Mackinac Island, the smell of bubbling fudge drifts on the breeze.

I brake for a muscly team of work horses clip-clopping toward the ferry. “Morning,” nods the driver looking like a slice of antiquity.

“Morning,” I reply, the sound of my voice reassuring me this is not a dream.

Waves of purple potted pansies bloom upon a gabled porch adorned with seafoam walls and creamy white rockers. Above a picket fence, gnarly limbs of lilacs intoxicate me with their fragrant scent.

Pedaling out of town, along the perimeter of the island, Lake Huron appears honey gold in the morning sun. The screech of a solitary gull interrupts the rhythmic lapping of the waves. Silhouettes of rock cairns dot the shore.

To my left, craggy cliffs soar into a pastel pink sky, a gentle breeze whispers through pine-scented boughs, and wild trilliums blanket the forest floor.

Around a turn, a winding lane appears, leading up into the center of the island. It beckons me to explore. Switching gears to low, I turn and determinedly pedal, hoping to make it to the top without stopping.

I struggle but finally reach the peak of the island. Propping my bike, I rest on a boulder. and unwrap my morning purchase– a freshly baked cherry scone dripping in almond glaze. Slowly, I savor each buttery bite.

A barge looms in the distance. Faraway, an eagle soars. Solitude reigns.

Refreshed, I point my bike down and coast effortlessly all the way back into town.

Clip-clop. Clip-clop. Town bursts with activity. Tourists scurry into souvenir shops, hoping to capture the heart of the island. Few will succeed, for the island’s heart lies not in the activity but in the solitude.


While writing, I choose where I want to go, what I want to create, how I want to feel. With the thermometer resting at 5 degrees, I can choose to smell lilacs, hear the lapping of the waves, feel a sunrise. Burdened, with a new to me gluten-free diet, I can even choose to enjoy a cherry scone.

Thanks for reading my words from the prairie.


Latest Comments

  1. countrygirllifeonthefarm says:

    Your site is making me yearn for spring so much with all the beautiful flowers and birds!! We’re deep into winter in Virginia.


  2. Georges 2679 says:

    très joli….Bonne soirée…Bises


  3. harmonee2014 says:

    What a beautiful scene you painted. I felt like I was there. “…a freshly baked cherry scone dripping in almond glaze..” Mmm…love this sentence. I must be hungry. I’ve never been to Mackinac Island, though I was supposed to go there, once, back in 1967. I was in a group called “Up With People.” You may have heard of them. We were in New York, getting ready to travel to Mackinac Island. I took a quick time-off and flew back home to California. But I never rejoined the group. So it was fun to read your description of the heart of the island. Thanks for the lovely view.


    • Julie says:

      The island is a favorite place of mine. Something about the energy lifts me up and the scenery is amazing. I think you would love it. Though sounds like you have it pretty nice right where you are. Thanks for reading.


  4. Eliza Waters says:

    I smiled when I saw the lilac – I enjoyed joining you on your summery bike ride. Dreams of warm days do get us there.
    It must be amazing to have a handsomely iridescent peacock strolling your zinnias!


    • Julie says:

      Yes, Eliza. It is amazing. I especially love those zinnias. I grow them from saved seeds each year. Not only do they attract peacocks, but the butterflies love them as well.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Ann Coleman says:

    You are a very good writer! That scene came to life…


  6. bayphotosbydonna says:

    Gorgeous, vibrant colors and lovely words!


  7. FlowerAlley says:

    Cheater! I wanted to see a picture of that scone.


  8. D. Wallace Peach says:

    A wonderful sensory journey. Thanks for the summery ride.


  9. Julie@frogpondfarm says:

    Oh I loved your words from the prairie. Love love the last image ..😀


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