October the Terrible

To quote a tee-shirt phrase, “OCTOBER is my favorite color”, would be an understatement of

how much I look forward to this time of year. Recently we returned from a foliage tour to the

great state of Michigan. The gold, amber, and maroon did not disappoint. Peppered with

consistent evergreens, the Tunnel of Trees winding 20 miles along the shoreline from Harbor

Springs north reminds you that the road was laid out when the civil engineer turned his mule

loose. Meandering the scenic curves one cannot stifle the “oohs” and “awes”

. My focus turned to Deuteronomy 10:21 which says,

“…he hath done for thee these great and terrible things

which thine eyes have seen.”

Now please do not misinterpret the use of the word “terrible” here. Instead invoke the

connotation of awe inspiring, magnificent, or deserving of reverential respect. My eyes were

opened to the powerful display of color in the changing of the seasons. I certainly was not

“frightened” by the beauty and there was no hint of “evil” in the scenery as the common

interpretation of the word “terrible” would imply. Instead I lifted praise for the creative genius I

witnessed first hand and thanked God the Creator for sharing with my eyes his “great and

terrible” fall colors.

As we continued to explore the sandy beaches and understand the protection lighthouses

provided those incoming ships of today as well as yesteryear, our company discovered more

evidence suggesting the terrible uniqueness of the Upper Peninsula. For instance, Lake

Michigan and Lake Heron are not separated by any land obstruction. Combined they form the

largest freshwater lake by surface area in the world. Magnificent! According to the WorldAtlas

Lake Michigan Guide, these two are identified as separate and distinct bodies of water which

consistently “maintain the exact same average water level” due to bidirectional water flow.

October evidenced itself again along the approximately 3,250 miles of shoreline with piles of

freshly blown leaves just begging to be jumped in, crisp windy mornings that demand you pull

up your hoodie, and the smell, that unmistakable sweet-tart smell of hot apple cider. We chose

to pick our own fresh fruit from the trees of a family owned roadside orchard. Never before have

I experienced such crunch or such sweet juiciness. Seems like a terrible way to taste the season.

While reflecting on the massive expanse of the Mackinac Bridge which was constructed in only

4 years, I observed the grace and beauty of the loons and seagulls diving for dinner and floating

effortlessly as they were tossed by the waves. I marveled at the startling change of color from

summer to winter in the U.P., and

I bow my heart to this terrible October for sharing her beautiful

transition with this devoted fan.