Stan and I were in Wisconsin over the Labor Day holidays to
spend time with my mother and to attend my 40th Prairie du Chien
High School class reunion. The reunion
was great fun but I noticed that muscle rub was needed the next day instead of
Alka Seltzer! I have gotten wiser but it
takes more effort.
While at home we spent some part of each day taking “blue highways” drives with my mother. One day we visited the Wisconsin town of Gays Mills, known for its apple orchards and apple pies. A drive north along the Mississippi River turned into an opportunity to watch Bald Eagles fish. On our last day we struck out on a part of The Great River Road that was heading south out of McGregor, Iowa towards Guttenberg. It was the “Magic Hour” when the sky glows at sunset. We had just topped a ridge when I saw a country church coming up on our right. I told Stan to stop and I walked over to the gate. I knew this church. My Father had brought me here when I was quite young, and later in my own church’s Sunday school class I had drawn my 5-year-old version, complete with graveyard. (Years later I was told that this drawing caused quite a stir among my SS teachers because it was the only drawing with a graveyard, and my father was a mortician!) I don’t recall returning since that time – but I knew that I had dreamt about this church.
Mother told me that it was the Swede Ridge Church and 1861 was woven into the metal gate.
Far to many times I am disappointed when I go searching for my past in light of the present, but when I stumbled upon a dream – at the magic hour - I am left with a deep sense of satisfaction and blessing.
Get out there and enjoy your fall on the BlueHighways. Let me know about your great drives!