The Mid-Air of Memory

An Apostle Islands postcard

Three below zero with the windchill this morning. The kind of morning when the air tingles like peppermint against your teeth with every breath. It is a day for layers, and hand-warmers, and memories of those warm summer days among the islands.

In my mind, summer days in the Apostles are outlined in yellow and blue — the searing yellow of the sun, the endless blue of the sky without the hint of a cloud, and that inviting, irresistible cool blue of the lake. Bare feet feet slapping against the sun-warmed sandstone on the climb up, that moment on the edge when courage teeters like birds on a branch. And then the feel of the summer sun tapping its hot fingers on your shoulder and you …

… leap.

And let’s leave it there, suspended in time and memory, frozen if you will. I hunch my shoulders against the sharp teeth of this recent cold snap, and set off down the icy trail alone, warmed by thoughts of a summer day in the Apostle Islands and a leap frozen, forever, in the mid-air of my memory.

— Jeff Rennicke (all photographs by the author unless otherwise noted.)

These weekly postcards are an off-shoot of the “Little Dipper” blog. Subscribers also get a full-length illustrated essay every Wednesday on the beauty, meaning, adventure, and the search for a sense of place in the Apostle Islands. If you are already a paid subscriber, thank you. If not, click below to join the journey.