America the Beautiful?
Why seeing this country is better than a trip to Europe…
Going to wedding in southeastern Minnesota surprised me. I thought I’d be in another flat piece of land with nothing to see, but was I wrong. Bluffs overlooked stunning valleys, and driving around made me see how lakes peppered the verdant farmland. Flowing creeks and streams begged for wading in, but I didn’t have the time to linger.
After our son’s wedding we took a week to wander through smaller towns in the Midwest, and while my goal was to see where Laura Ingalls Wilder lived, I learned about the unexpected beauty of quiet places. We left Rushford for western Minnesota, and the sky opened up. I had no idea how lovely a sunset looks on the prairie, where the lack of trees made it possible to see forever.
We were lucky enough to have a hotel room where we watched thunderstorms roll in for hours. The daylight lasted long past 9:00 due to us being farther north, so I opened the curtain, and while my early bird husband fell asleep, I cozily sat next to him alternately reading while looking up at the endless lightning filling the sky. Marshall, Minnesota gave me a rare night of beauty I won’t ever forget.
When I made it out to the Dakota prairies I expected to see vast swathes of land unencumbered with trees. We have so many here in Ohio, and I wanted to feel the relentless wind against the tall prairie grasses. Clumps of trees surprised me until I recalled Laura’s husband had taken a tree claim of his own. The government had wanted to fill in this lonely place with trees, and they looked so out-of-place to me.
I know we can’t ever travel and capture the world as it was in the 1700s, 1800s, or even forty years ago, but I so wanted a glimpse of Laura’s life. We found it finally when we came upon the homestead marker for Rose Wilder Lane, the writer daughter of Laura and Almanzo Wilder. No trees were in sight, and as I walked up to the swell of the hill where the author had wandered, I saw it. There was the wild land that refused to be tamed.
My husband, who has hunted in many places in our country, felt the wide open skies of a place that could make anyone feel small. Earth met sky, and we were utterly insignificant. It felt marvelous.
Where do you fit in here? Go. Head out the door. If you’ve got two weeks of vacation, maybe forget the beach. How can I be writing this to you? I love the ocean and yet, a world of hidden wonders waits for us in small towns across America. Grab the family and see what Nantucket or Cape Cod looks like. Head out this summer or fall, and go north.
New York, Maine, Wisconsin and other northern states put on a show in autumn, and I miss it. Drive or hike the back roads, marveling at the colors of all the trees turning at once. It doesn’t happen here, and I’m thinking about taking a surprise trip north in the beginning of October. Do that. Find the apple orchards laden with treats. Buy the fattest pumpkin your arms can hold, and fill up on blue skies and fresh, cool air.
I’ve seen parts of Europe, and I’m going back in spring again, but in this time of inflation and worry, maybe heading to the state next to yours that you never managed to see is waiting for your visit. Drive to a spot where only a few venture. Go out of season to see the real place. Head to the beaches of the Outer Banks in winter.
Watch the wild waves crash on the beach while you’re safely bundled up. Climb Mount St. Helens, knowing it once was home to many people. Visit the Lowcountry of South Carolina, seeing the moss clinging to branches, and the tide flowing in to the marshes. We rented a house on the marsh one year, rather than the oceanfront, and we caught crabs just to look at before we tossed them back. But the surprise of seeing dolphins in the full marsh was enough reward for the whole vacation.
A friend of mine travels solo and prefers it. Don’t let your relationship status keep you from seeing the extraordinary in the mundane. It takes courage to strike out on your own, but who knows? Maybe your friend or sister is ready for an adventure, too. August is here and you can still head out for a weekend if not a full week.
Who knew that a Minnesota sunset with actual beams of light contrasting with the oncoming dark of night would be as beautiful as Notre Dame before that Paris church on the Seine burned down. Perhaps that sunset was more beautiful for it still stuns me and fills my mind. Aren’t we lucky to have such a beautiful country?
