And here I had just written about the perfect day.

Then I accidentally found it. It wasn’t what I thought it would be. Well, not entirely, anyway. But I also found some true beauty I want to share.

It all started when someone very close to me spent a perfect day last week on Mackinac Island. The Island hadn’t quite opened for the year due to all the recent nonsense. We were encouraged to GO while it was peaceful and before everyone else who knows of the magic of this place decided to descend en masse. We smiled and appreciated the thought. But, gee, I had just found my planner that I had stuffed away since there had been nothing interesting to write on it, and June said a strong NO to the idea of getting away.

But we kept looking at each other across the table; each of us surely recalling our many Mackinac trips since we were 17 and visiting for the first time as a dating couple. 30 flipping years ago we began escaping to the romantic step back in time land that is simultaneously horse poop and fudge. A land still safe with no need to check bags and where everyone smiles. Horse hoof clopping, the spin of bike spokes, the lap of waves, surrounded by tropical blues and the call of seagulls, literally awakened by the smell of caramel corn and lilacs. Could we do it? What if we left tomorrow? I mean, it was our anniversary…

We cleaned. We packed. We left. We drove.

We took our ferry across Lake Huron looking at Mighty Mac in all her glory. We arrived on the first day that our favorite hotel opened back up. We choose a balcony suite each time that is right downtown so we can sit outside and play cards and people watch. No traffic in this town except when a horse drawn garbage wagon stops in the street to ask a child on a bicycle to move to the sidewalk. And we had once-in-a-lifetime quiet on the island with several times when you couldn’t see a soul on Main Street.

She’s had a rough go, the island. Having missed her usual influx of the hordes of folks who drive north, many shops are closed — perhaps forever. The dog is missing from the top of the Haunted Theater steps as it stands empty. The pottery shop never turned the sign to say OPEN.

And the lake levels have been destructive. The 8.2 mile bike ride around the island is technically closed to traffic. None of us could handle that news. It’s just what you do, every time you go. And everyone just biked past the sign.

This time, we had insider info. We learned that amidst the rubble of broken roads and bike trail were jeweled treasures in our favorite form — beach glass. You might say sea glass. We say buried treasure. Christian and I have picked up tiny little pieces from here to Kauai (did you know there’s a place there where the beach used to be a junkyard and now is not made of sand, rather sand-sized beach glass???!!!). We walked miles per day along the shore this trip searching the washed up rocks and rock piles for green, red, blue, clear, purple, brown, and aqua beach glass. We collected so much the first day that we literally booked another night to do it again. We couldn’t leave. We invited other families to look with us — children from many points south were thrilled to know of the treasure. The parents were perhaps less delighted to now have children obsessed. Never have we found these colors, these sizes and shapes, these amounts!!

We took a horse-drawn, open cab to our favorite restaurant deep in the woods and had world-class food adorned with edible flowers next to a massive wall-sized fireplace accompanied by grand piano songs. We shared the cab with lovely new friends and all found common ground in having survived and getting our *house arrest* lifted.

We saw families arrive with masks, all, and looking petrified to be out in the world, but determined to enjoy some time anyway. The mix of masked and non-masked was about even, but the need to connect and enjoy human pleasures of dining out and overhearing conversations of strangers and walk through a town and a gift store. No matter that there is sanitizer and plexiglass and you can’t touch the jewelry. There are feelings about these modifications to our world, but we were THERE!

The island has suffered, but it is in the process of overcoming every obstacle. There’s a sense of determination to forge on and live! It is beautiful.

We ran away from home. And there’s something in that alone, and, we decided, being on an island that allowed us to feel removed from reality enough to truly relax. I cannot think of the last time I felt that way. No one needed us. We had nothing to plan since the whole thing was the essence of spontaneity. I couldn’t make my own food even if I wanted to. And 6 or so hours a day of walking along the shore with my feet in the frigid lapping waves was the eraser of the fear that had seeped into our very pores and needed to be gone.

Collectively, we need to move on, friends. We need less noise of news (we’ve refused to look lately). We need to relate and laugh with strangers and ask about their kids and their dreams. We need to decide to move on. And it will be rebuilt better than ever if we could ALL do exactly that. But if we keep doing the same thing we’ve been doing and expecting different results…well, we’ll all keep feeling pretty crazy.

It’s gonna look different for all of us. Not everyone can go out and play on an island and find that kind of peace — but for the love of all that’s good, if you can, grab someone you love and find that peaceful place! But if you can’t, maybe just decide to shut off the noise and the words about current events that have become commonplace and decide to just move forward in love and kindness to whatever is next. Can you just imagine if everyone did? It begins with me — with you.

The road may have washed out, but there are treasures to glean if we are willing to go toward the peace and remain there until things are repaired in us and in the world.

Because we all really do deserve a perfect day.