Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Getting Here . . .

The rhythms and rituals of life on the Island are sacred – the ceremonial arrival and departure by ferry; Bayside dinners with terrific food and breathtaking views; the unspoken decree against high heels (although I must admit that I am guilty of ignoring that one out of sheer vanity); and the generational parade of robust kids, running, swimming, squealing, sledding, and coming of age in the woods and on the waters of Drummond.

But getting to Drummond means that your business must first come through the ferry dock – with a tempo and hierarchy unlike any other place. Everyone and everything is on display as vehicles come and go and wait. Everyone’s stuff is on view piled in a backseat, a bed of a truck or stacked high on a trailer. You know what stores people shop at. You know who is getting new furniture. You know what books, magazines and papers people read to pass the time. And you also get a glimpse into each other’s relationships as passengers are dropped off, picked up and said goodbye or hello to.

The ferry also marks the passage from one world to another. The pace of the Island has always been intertwined with the coming and going of the ferry. And life on the Island is a reflection of this marvelous relationship. “Island Time” means a more relaxed way of life – and the wait for the ferry is the first step into a mood and pace that is always of an unhurried nature. This distinctive lifestyle and its gentle easy rhythms are as much a part of the landscape as are the waves lapping at the shore. Waiting for the ferry makes for a wonderful chance to practice patience . . .

Patience is the best remedy for every trouble and Drummond is the best medicine for dealing with the stress of life off the Island. Mahomet once said, “Patience is the key to content.” And I have often been known to exclaim that I am the most content woman in the world when I am back “home” on Drummond.

And so every trip across M-134 brings with it a peaked sense of anticipation – the wait for the ferry always putting extra emphasis on what it really means to get here.

5 comments:

Jen - said...

I love the sense of relief pulling around the corner and finding no line at the ferry on the DeTour side. It brings tears to my eyes when I drive on to the Island for the first time each summer. Drummond is the place where I fill up my soul. My time there is so fleeting now that I make sure to drink in every moment.

Candis Collick said...

Jen
I know the feeling you are talking about! For me the tears start at the Bridge. Just crossing over means I am that much closer to being *home*. Drummond is my respite'. Too bad we can't store more of it in our souls when we have to leave.
Take care, and thanks so much for leaving your comment today! Candis

Pamela said...

I have come to think of the ferry as the last barrier to get to my "Heart Home". Waiting for the ferry is where I do my last bit of business...calling in orders, returning calls, and announcing that I'll be out of phone contact, not so true anymore but no one really needs to know that! I live a different life there, a true revelation of who I really am, no accoutrements necessary. Although, I must admit, I'd wear heels if I wouldn't break a leg on the rocky terrain!

Candis Collick said...

Pamela - Your words are spot on! Drummond is my *Heart Home* as well. I am truly the MOST content woman in the world when I am there. Cheers!

Candis Collick said...

For more stunning photos of U.P. North please take the time to visit Mark S. Carlson's website. You can find his galley of work here: http://www.markscarlson.com/