The Glen Arbor Sun is catching its breath this week as the summer season turns toward autumn (we’ll publish our fall color edition on Sept. 16). Nevertheless, there’s still plenty of news happening in these northern woods. Here’s a rundown of stories that have caught our eyes:

• Glen Arbor resident and longtime political columnist George Weeks contextualizes now retired Michigan Supreme Court Judge Betty Weaver’s bold move last week. Weaver, also a Glen Arborite, stepped down from the high court after years of infighting with  Republican colleagues who had grown more extreme. She ceded her throne following a promise that Democratic Governor Jennifer Granholm would appoint another northern Michigander to the seat. This tipped the balance to the Democrats — at least until November — but it also revealed that, perhaps Weaver’s allegiance lies not along party lines but along regional lines. Weaver’s move has drawn the wrath of some Republicans, but the Traverse City Record-Eagle sang nothing but praise for her willingness to act as an independent voice.

• Our friends at Circle of Blue published this sobering report about the Kalamazoo River oil spill: “Sleepless Nights and Black Goo”. And Todd Heywood of the Michigan Messenger ran this even more horrifying piece which blew the whistle on an oil spill cleanup contractor from Texas that had been busing in hundreds of undocumented workers to Battle Creek, Mich., to work on the cleanup of the Calhoun County oil spill — and having them work nearly 100 hours a week in unsafe conditions.

• Closer to home, Kerry Kelly came upon this sailboat from Milwaukee which marooned on the beach near North Bar Lake late last week. This was certainly a nicer gift from our Wisconsin friends than the industrial trash that has been washing up on our shores late this summer.

• And to end this all on a positive note, last weekend’s production of Martha Graham’s “American Document” at the Mills Community House in Benzonia was a smashing success, writes Sun co-editor Norm Wheeler. Adapted and directed by former Glen Arbor resident Gretchen Eichberger, American Document “was brilliant, intense, and moving, reminding us that there is art that we just consume, and then pure, original art that really moves us.”

• Last but not least, don’t miss the annual Labor Day Bridge Walk, at noon on Monday.

The walk leaves from north end of the Narrows Bridge, which divides Big and Little Glen Lakes, and proceeds to Melba Ann’s for a “goodbye to summer” party.

Sun contributor

At 3 in the morning through an August downpour, Gladys Muñoz is on her way to the Munson maternity ward. She is not about to deliver a baby but her presence there is desperately needed. A frightened young farmworker woman who speaks no English is in labor. Gladys will remain with this woman through labor and delivery, interpreting for her all that the doctor or midwife and nurses are saying and encouraging her to ask questions and make decisions.

Providing a sense of comfort and security to a person in need comes naturally to Gladys. Her parents, a pediatric-cardiologist father and a dietitian mother, taught her the challenges of “doing justice”. While stationed at a military base in Japan, Gladys noticed the differences separating people of various religious and cultural backgrounds. She developed a heightened awareness of the communication gap between pregnant American military wives and Japanese doctors. In northwest Michigan these same pervasive problems occur with Anglos and Hispanics, making it hard to communicate across the void of separate languages and cultures.

As Director of Language and Cultural Diversity at Northwest Michigan Health Services in Traverse City, Gladys is faced with the momentous task on being on call as an interpreter 24/7 and also training and placing bilingual interpreters where they are most needed. From NMHS, better known as the

Farmworker’s Clinic, at the base of Morgan Hill (M-72 west), interpreters are sent out into migrant camps, emergency and delivery rooms, and private medical offices in the five counties this health entity serves. In 2009 the clinic responded to 174 people (some with multiple visits), resulting in over 500 hours of interpretation. In a Michigan network of 31 federally funded health centers, NMHS is the only center to teach medical interpretation.

Northwest Michigan Health Services has been the medical home to the farmworking community for over 40 years. During the growing season the Farmworker’s Clinic is open five days a week. On staff are a nurse practitioner, two midwives, a pediatrician, and an internist. Fees are on a sliding scale to ensure affordable services. “It is a misconception that you have to be Hispanic and migrant to be seen at our facility,” said Gladys. “Anyone who has worked in the past two years in seasonal agriculture, together with his or her family members, may utilize services.”

With her years of teaching experience and University of Arizona training as medical interpreter, Gladys has organized basic training sessions for NMHS staff and offered medical interpretation classes through NMC Extended Education program. This spring she taught two courses. One was a 10-hour Basic Skills in Medical Interpretation class, which focused on national standards, ethical dilemmas, medical terminology and cultural sensitivity. The second class was a two and a half hour refresher course for those who had already had some interpreter training but wanted an opportunity to practice more, meet other interpreters and share ideas and concerns while sharpening their skills.

Cultural sensitivity is critical to healthy outcomes. This sensitivity not only refers to ethnic differences but is multi-faceted and is necessary to understand a person’s reality of life. Gladys reminds her students to “Always ask for clarification”. She shared a few examples. “A basic word like “angina” is widely used by the Mexican community to describe a sore throat whereas among our medical practitioners the word refers to heart pain. Imagine the havoc that can be created by the misunderstanding of a simple word.”

In another example, Gladys explains, “A patient with a serious wound was about to be discharged from the hospital. Instructions on how to keep the wound clean were clearly explained, but until the interpreter broached the subject, the doctor as well as the hospital personnel did not understand that the man’s wound would certainly become infected if he were sent back to the inadequate migrant housing where he was staying. The Farmworker’s Clinic, together with a social worker, was able to arrange for clean housing with running water for the patient to live in while healing.”

On yet another occasion, a woman was told by a doctor that she needed surgery to remove her gallbladder. Her brother was used as an interpreter. The family was too ashamed to say they did not have money for the surgery. The patient did not return to the doctor’s office. Two weeks later this woman ended up at the ER needing emergency surgery. Gladys was called to interpret. “When I asked why she had not returned to the doctor’s office, the woman explained to me the problem of payment. With help from the hospital social workers, a payment plan was set in motion, cheaper or generic medication was offered for the prescriptions, and a better understanding of the medical condition, follow-up, and care was explained. An opportunity was given for the patient to ask questions and receive appropriate answers. Respect for her confidentiality was also assured.

“Without a properly trained medical interpreter it is enormously difficult to assist and support the most underserved population in our midst.”

One story poignantly illustrates the pressing need for cultural sensitivity. Some time ago, Gladys was assisting a young woman with her doctor’s appointment at Munson Hospital. After an initial consultation, this woman was handed a hospital gown and asked to remove her clothes. The patient, who had fled for her life from the civil war and death squads of her native country in Central America, quietly turned to Gladys and asked in Spanish “Are they going to kill me?” In her country, victims’ clothing was removed before an execution so that it could be reused. Gladys assured her that the hospital was a place of healing, not harm.

It is intimidating for most of us to visit a doctor in the first place. Add a language barrier and the need for patient advocacy is clear. This service assures that a provider will explain all aspects of the medical condition and follow-up, while allowing the patient the opportunity to ask questions without pressure and with confidentiality maintained. Dr. Robert Foote, O.D. says. “Gladys and her volunteer interpreters are frequently invaluable in my proper diagnoses of patients and in the precise prescribing of medications. With their help we are assured of a positive outcome.”

Many migrant workers are disheartened when they cannot find a ride to a clinic. In 2008 Michigan passed a law forbidding non-Michigan residents to obtain a driver’s license. This law was eventually changed for out-of-state students but not for migrant workers. When necessary, Gladys and the farmworker clinic can help to coordinate rides.

In the face of many difficulties, Gladys remains upbeat and optimistic. The medical community is grateful for her services, as are the laborers who help harvest Michigan’s abundant produce. These workers help foster the survival of agricultural, Michigan’s second largest industry.

Gladys Muñoz has a commitment to and solidarity with the farmworking community that remains ever strong. As a professional woman with a Bachelor of Science plus a Masters of Science in Administration, Gladys strives to represent the Hispanic community with dignity and pride. To contact Gladys about services or volunteering, call (231) 947-1112, ext. 221, or email jpac3(AT)juno.com.

Sun contributor

For over 50 years, the tall-case clock has kept time at the old Dillon cottage on Little Glen Lake, its pendulum quietly tracing the passage of the days. But this was no ordinary heirloom passed down by a proud ancestor. The handmade wooden piece, crafted in the popular Victorian-era Gothic style and standing more than eight feet tall, boasts three separate faces that mark the hours, minutes, and seconds behind a round glass portal. The steel pendulum shaft ends in a large glass cylinder, more than eight inches tall and two inches in diameter, filled with mercury, while the brass counterweight and other fittings are much thicker and heavier than usual. Strangest of all, according to its current owner Ben Bricker, “Here’s this clock from way back, but it has electrical fittings!”

Ben has wondered often about the old timepiece, which originally belonged to his late wife Ananda “Tump” Dillon’s mother’s family in Chicago. As he explained, no one now alive could share direct evidence of the clock’s origins or purpose. Yet he has heard plenty of tantalizing but unsubstantiated family lore about its role as “the official timepiece for east of Dayton, Ohio, and west of Lincoln, Neb.”

When he happened to see an episode of PBS’ History Detectives about a year ago, he was struck by the question that the show’s host, Elyse Luray, asks each week: “What is it that you want to know?” Ben realized that he should try to document the piece’s intriguing history for his family’s future generations. After writing down as much of the stories as he could remember, he and his daughter Cherrie Bricker Stege contacted the show’s producers to see if they could take on the challenge of the mystery clock from Carl Sandburg’s so-called “City of the Big Shoulders.”

Back in late 19^th century Chicago, Tump’s maternal grandmother had an uncle named John Mayo, who owned the upscale Mayo Jewelry Store. Did the clock play an important role in maintaining the orderly progression of commerce throughout the Midwest, as the family lore speculated and American history of the era suggests? Ben Bricker recalls that the “electrical fittings” were said to be connected to telegraph wires “to receive the Morse code signals from the Bureau of Standards” in Washington, DC.

“As the story goes, the clock would make a click, and someone standing there would manually recalibrate the three separate clock faces so that all three hands would stand up.”

He continues, “Theoretically, it was a nine-day clock but was rewound every Sunday, drawing the brass weight at the end of the gut cord back up. Otherwise, the weight would slowly sink to the bottom of the entire clock case, on the floor.” He opens the glass portal and demonstrates the winding of the clock with a small, removable brass handle. “Tump, [and her sisters] Barrie and Ariel all learned to tell time on this clock — wasn’t that strange, with its three hands!”

He is also fascinated by the ingenious method by which the stainless steel pendulum expands and contracts according to temperature changes, while the heavy mercury (a metal, though in liquid form) in the glass vial compensates by its limited downward expansion.

“This causes the vial to rise by the same amount that the pendulum shaft lengthens,” Ben explains. That maintains the device’s ‘escapement,’ or length of the pendulum’s arc, which regulates the length of the gear unwinding, “to be absolutely accurate.”

He notes that the clock has been cleaned and repaired several times over its century-plus history, most recently by his son Bruce, a physical oceanographer with the Office of Naval Research in Long Beach, Miss.

About 1980, he took apart every moveable piece and spread it across my living room floor. He cleaned it all, then put it back together, and signed his name and the date,” alongside the previous, mostly anonymous laborers, whose names are immortalized within the bowels of the clockworks.

Whatever the clock’s function, the selection of John Mayo and his jewelry establishment as timekeeper remains a mystery (perhaps to be revealed during the upcoming History Detectives episode, which will air on Monday, Sept. 6 at 9 p.m. local time). What is certain is that the tall, darkly burnished wooden spires atop the longcase stood sentinel in the Mayo Jewelry Store for several decades, perhaps until the hotel was rebuilt in 1924-27 to its present-day configuration. At some time, probably in the early 1950s, Mayo’s great-niece Alice Goss Dillon and her husband Frank (Tump’s parents) sold their home in Winnetka, Ill., and put the clock into storage near their downtown Chicago art studio, before moving it once again to their summer cottage on Glen Lake.

Ben says, “When Frank put everything in storage, he put the mercury in a coffee can, which was lead soldered. The mercury reacted with the lead, went right through the can onto the warehouse floor! They lost quite a bit, which had to be replaced. You can’t really pick up mercury, especially from a board floor that had wide cracks. This was before the days when mercury was dangerous,” he quips with a smile.

Today, the old timepiece remains on duty, lovingly wound each week by Ben, its present-day steward. Though it no longer carries the heavy responsibility of keeping time for a brawny Midwestern town, its pendulum continues its faithful arc across time, rising and falling with the weight of each given day.

Sun contributor

Bees are humming amongst spotted purple knapweed, grasses and Queen Anne’s lace growing thigh high in a cluster of unsold lots on the south side of the New Neighborhood. Empire resident Robin Johnson, who lives across M-22 from the development — in the former Lillian and Irwin Beck, Jr. farmhouse — points to this sunny spot resembling a meadow more than future home sites.

An architect with an appreciation of life cycles, Johnson convinced her New Neighborhood developer-husband Robert Foulkes to forego mowing the 124-foot-deep patch of wildflowers that some might call weeds. This way, she explains, fauna can continue using the space as habitat, at least until the lots sell.

“I care a lot about the landscape,” says the assistant professor (Andrews University School of Architecture) back at her home, while sharing some of her architectural drawings. A project she calls “Cycle” was meant to transform a gash in a Dublin, Ireland roundabout into a circle of planted oak trees, their tops tethered inward toward a mound covered with artistically-crafted ceramic, with a ditch to collect acorns. Her idea: as the ceramic crumbled over time, the acorns would touch soil — leading to a new generation of trees. (The project never materialized, but a future Glen Arbor Sun story will highlight the couple’s tree-planting work in Ireland.)

Other drawings show Celtic motifs Johnson suggested as ornamentation for rustic, boathouse-inspired guest quarters on South Bar Lake, and the 1,600-square-foot Long Lake house she designed (in the form of their old boathouse at the water’s edge) for her parents. The home climbs the same hillside owned by her grandfather (a pharmacist at the former state hospital in Traverse City), where she used to “hang out” as a child during summers at the lake. (Johnson’s parents were raised in Traverse City: her brother Greg Johnson, a NASA astronaut and retired Air Force colonel, was featured in our July 15 edition, “Empire community glimpses life in space”.)

“I love working with the topography,” she adds.

Growing greenery

When plans were underway for the first Empire Asparagus festival, Johnson noted that the only asparagus “visible” in the village was in a culvert at Lake and Niagara streets. She says she thought the long, east-facing wall of the Post Office needed a garden, and she made a proposal to the Village Council, which agreed to contribute $100 toward the purchase of plants if she promised to join the Village Beautification Committee.

“Greystone Gardens (on Manning Road, south of the village) sold to us and donated loads of gorgeous plants, including some spectacular three-foot-high golden yarrow which has found its way into other village planting beds,” she says. “It’s great in the hot August heat. You can see it featured prominently today along the east wall of the pump house at the beach. Residents of the village contributed mature plants at that time as well — daylilies, poppies, shasta daisies … I love it when people pitch in like that.”

Beds were installed at the southeast corner of the town hall, along the east wall of the Post Office (surreptitiously hiding the air-conditioning unit), in front of State Savings Bank and at the Empire beach turnaround.

“One of the plants I am particularly happy with from those Beautification Committee days is a certain poppy in the round planting bed at the beach, by the anchor. It was absolutely stunning the last two years. I think it’s the same one I transplanted from someone’s yard. (It) took awhile to get situated and then, wow, it’s beautiful in late spring — blazing red with western sunlight glowing through it.”

Johnson says that Linda Payment, the chairperson of Parks on the Village Council and a “fabulous gardener,” oversees care of the planting beds today.

Vision for a veggie garden

Thanks to Johnson’s ability to see potential in a fallow field and her belief in community, a portion of a reserve septic drain field planned for future use in phase 5 of the New Neighborhood has become a 50-by-80-foot community garden area. Raised vegetable beds were constructed of slab wood provided by her husband’s timber-framing business, White Oak Timber Frames of Suttons Bay. A nearby neighbor currently supplies water by hose, but the gardeners hope to obtain permission from the village to access a water hook-up on lot 63, also communally held. Each gardener contributes $25 per year for infrastructure.

“There couldn’t be a more ideal spot than an area held for common use,” she says of the garden site, adding that property ownership and use makes it “not that easy to work out the details” of this type of endeavor when the land isn’t held for shared purposes.

One of the 10 community gardeners couldn’t put up a fence at his home, due to lot restrictions placed by developers on his land, so he tends one of the garden’s 10-by-15-foot plots protected from critters by a seven-foot-tall fence and a solar-powered electric fence. The other nine gardeners include several village residents and a handful of New Neighborhood residents, and a majority of them worked together last year to add a trailer load of aged manure to the beds.

“It was a really fun time — followed by hot cider and other goodies people contributed in good communal fashion,” she says. “We retreated to the wood stove in my living room, after all the hard work in the frosty cold, to warm up and have an impromptu potluck.”

Johnson gamely poses for a photograph next to large and healthy-looking pumpkins planted by New Neighborhood resident Cile Plumstead. Afterward, as she threads herself between horizontal fence wires, her smile is still wide as she adds a final thought:

“I really like the idea of doing stuff communally. There’s a helping that happens among friends when the set up is easy, and it’s a great use of the land.”

For information about the community garden or her services as an architect, email Robin Johnson at robinaj9988(AT)yahoo.com.

Sun contributor

We live in a world where discoveries of what can harm us are everywhere. We discovered that lead in our paints and gasoline is harmful, so now we have lead-free paint and lead-free gasoline. We learned that some of us are intolerant to ingredients in our foods, forcing us to concoct special foods for those with dietary challenges — sugar-free, lactose-free, gluten-free, salt-free, peanut oil-free, and more. We now know that chemicals in our food can be harmful, hence the option to buy chemical-free “organic” foods. The average citizens want to be able to make the right choices, not only for themselves, but also in the interest of the environment.

In Glen Arbor, a proposal is in the works that would call attention to a chemical that has a profound impact on water quality. This chemical is called phosphorus. Of the many chemicals that impact water quality, phosphorous is the most important. Why? Because one pound of phosphorous in a lake, river or stream can grow 500 pounds of algae, and too much algae can adversely affect aquatic ecosystems. In addition, and perhaps most importantly, once excess phosphorous is added to the lake, it accumulates over time and is stored at the bottom of the lake.

Phosphorous in normal quantities is not harmful. In fact, it is required to keep plants alive in our water. The problem is when too much human-induced phosphorous enters our lakes — mostly from precipitation, but also from lawn fertilizers.

Glen Arbor, Empire and Kasson Townships have the opportunity to protect our waterways by approving a proposal to make it unlawful to use phosphorous-containing fertilizer within 500 feet of any lake, river or stream. In short, there should be an ordinance that requires any riparian that applies lawn fertilizer to use phosphorous-free products. The Glen Lake Association supports it; Leelanau Clean Water supports it, and now it is time for support from the township level.

How does phosphorous in fertilizers that are applied to lawns get into our surface water? By applying fertilizer to turf grass, the shallow roots have very little time to absorb the nutrients before they go unabsorbed and percolate into the ground water. Generally, the ground water flows into the lake and carries the unabsorbed or excess phosphorous into the water where it stimulates aquatic plants and algae.

Unlike turf grass, natural greenbelt buffers with native plant species boast deep root systems that will absorb more of the excess phosphorous, thereby reducing or eliminating any excess phosphorous from entering the lake. The bonus of a natural greenbelt buffer is that you don’t need to fertilize, making the issue of phosphorous-free fertilizers a moot point.

Obtaining phosphorous-free fertilizers is easier than ever. Many stores that sell lawn fertilizer have phosphorous-free fertilizer. All you need to do is ask. Many ask if this type of fertilizer works on their lawns. Most often, the answer is yes. Our soils have a natural supply of phosphorous. Besides, the most active ingredient in lawn fertilizer that makes your lawn healthy and green is nitrogen.

This fall, three townships that border the shores of the Glen Lakes will have the opportunity to pass an ordinance that makes it illegal for any person or commercial lawn-care business to apply lawn fertilizer that contains phosphorous. Many townships in Michigan have already implemented a ban on phosphorous, knowing that doing so will protect water quality in their township. In addition, a movement is underway to push for a state law that governs the use of phosphorous in fertilizers in an effort to protect our lakes, rivers and streams.

Dorsey Trailer Park owners and managers Duane and Chris Shugart, are already on the fast track to preserve the Glen Lakes. They own and manage 900 feet of Little Glen shoreline — home to over 30 seasonal riparians in the park. The policy in their park is that if you decide to use lawn fertilizer in your yard, it must be phosphorous-free and contained to a limited quantity this fall. The lawns around their trailer park may not be overly lush and green (a sign that usually indicates excessive use of fertilizer), but the lawns are healthy. This seems like a small price to pay for keeping the water from deteriorating. In fact, the Shugarts have replaced much of their turf with a natural greenbelt, earning them last year’s Stewardship Award from the Glen Lake Association.

Now, residents of the park can enjoy their shoreline — free of the algae that once covered the stones along their shoreline. Today, they are truly free from the ill effects of excess phosphorous in Little Glen Lake.

For more information about phosphorous deteriorating our water, contact Rob Karner M.S., Watershed Biologist for the Glen Lake Association. Call (231) 334-5831 or email him at rkarner(AT)leelanau.org.

I walk beside Lake Michigan in every season, and in almost every weather, though it’s loveliest in summer, with bare feet, everything sparkling: the Manitou Islands, the sculptural driftwood. Most days I go to Good Harbor near Pyramid Point, but some days it’s Port Oneida, or even as far south as Esch Road or Elberta Beach. I look out at all that clear blue water and think “how lucky are we to have this lake?”

Photo by Keenan May

Oil has gushed all over the Gulf of Mexico for months now and I don’t try to shake those images of non-stop destruction because a gigantic portion of apathy and looking away is the reason these disasters happen. Still, I look long at the majestic lake I love and pray that it will always be good and lovely in the summer sun, the winter winds. I walk north or south with my dog Lucy, both of us wet around the ankles, the breeze on our faces, sand in our hair.

At some point I dive in and swim, the wet cool like a home, my own body inside in this larger, shifting, body. I float on my back, blinking up at the sky, drifting further into the glittering deep. I dive down. I touch the rocks. I get out and see the carp where they rot on the shore. I walk over the sharp layers of broken zebra mussels. I wonder about the green algae that muddles the shore. I see the birds that have died from botulism. It’s all interconnected, complicated, suffering, alive.

These watery walks are a daily act of love, but also a devotion. I consider it a political act to go there; to acknowledge what gives us the life we have, to pay attention, bear witness, love what is precious and elsewhere, too scarce. I walk to bear witness and to make a kind of internal, emotional record of this lake and my life with it.

Photo by Tim Volas

Big storms bring waves — my surfer friends rejoice — and also the remains and waste from other places, or from our own hard-to-break ways. A week or so ago friends in Benzie started seeing trash and medical waste washing up at Otter Creek beach. The next day they brought their kids, several old buckets, and started gathering up the great snarls of debris. It’s an ugly sight, these artifacts of 21st century living: black plastic comb embossed with the words “Milwaukee County Club”; used syringes, baby blue plastic hair pieces.

The local writer Stephanie Mills told me she makes a habit of clearing trash from the roadways near her home in Kasson Township so that “the creatures don’t have to contend with it.” I appreciate this sensibility and have tried to do the same where I live. The “don’t litter” mantras of the 1980s tried to sell America on the aesthetics of trash-free public spaces but it matters more that the heron, plover and deer are faced with all of this detritus in our common landscape. Some of them don’t know it’s lethal. We may not realize this ourselves.

At this time of year we are accustomed to seeing people enjoying the lake. We swim, sail, canoe, surf, and watch the sun go down from all of the west facing beaches. Are we not all water-worshippers? I fear that we are not. If we were, we’d be more outraged than we are to hear that oil from the recent Kalamazoo River spill will make it’s way to Lake Michigan, and in the meantime, strangle everything in it’s path. We’d also be a happier, a less stressed-out bunch, if we would just get out of cars, walk out of our air-conditioned buildings and down to the lake a little more often.

I take some consolation in this ritual of the season. So much about our lives is otherwise predicated on economic activity, as in, we spend our days and nights trying to make the money, and attending to our so-called adult responsibilities. During what remains of our time we tend to be consumers, pursuing our needs, following our desires. It is for this reason, I believe, that many of us long for greater satisfaction in our daily lives.

The American philosopher, Henry Bugbee, wrote about how immersion in place can evoke wonder. He wrote, “The world does not become less ‘unknown’ in proportion to the increase of our knowledge about it … Our experience of the world involves us in a mystery which can be intelligible to us only as a mystery. The more we experience things in depth, the more we participate in a mystery intelligible to us only as such.” It is a deeply moral act to know a place — one’s home, for instance — and to foster affection, generosity, hospitality and protectiveness toward that place. It is also good to not-really-know, and yet deeply sense, something like a lake; to submit to the mystery for the pure joy of it. It is important to understand the ecosystem as the marine biologists do, and useful to measure lake temperatures, and note the effect that climate change has on this habitat. It is also of valuable to fall in love, to do so over and over again, and to maintain that relationship with the fierceness we defend the other things that give us nourishment, meaning, and purpose.

When I was a teenager I studied with the writer and river-lover, Michael Delp. We read poems, essays and stories that made the case for a wild mind, a wild heart. Daily, he raged against that which separates us from the greater world around us — blind faith, consumerism, intellectualism ignorant of the physical world — and he also made us read things that reinforced this sensibility. It was in a poem by Jim Harrison that I found one of the wisdoms that has stuck with me since, a sort of mantra: “We don’t get back those days we don’t caress, don’t make love.” Life is short and it’s in our hands to treat our time here like something precious; to treat the place itself as a heaven, here, and now. If I were less certain of death, I could stay at work or at home, docile at my desk.

What does any of this have to do with the lake and how to love it? Mary Oliver, another early influence, wrote “Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting — over and over announcing your place in the family of things.” Which makes me wonder: what is our place in the family of things? What is mine? I walk and know that it makes me more alert in this world, perceptive by degrees, curious at the wild presence of all that is out there: the smashing waves, raptor call, blue blue sky, and the otters with their feast of fish. The trash on the beach. The oil on the waves — not here, exactly — but everywhere, because no part of this world, is apart, is not connected to the rest.

A couple of nights ago I was out late with some friends. We’d been dancing, riding our fleet of bikes around Traverse City at 3 a.m. In time we landed at the harbor and all 10 of us tore our clothes off and ran, splashing into the dark water. You’ll look a long time before you find so many people that free, that full of delight, in Traverse City at the end of the tourist season. I dare you. The way to love a lake is to jump in. Often.

Holly Wren Spaulding is a poet and writer from Cedar.

Holly Wren Spaulding of Cedar and Hughthir White of Empire will perform in an upcoming production of Martha Graham’s dance-drama, “American Document,” August 27 and 28 at the historic Mills Community House in nearby Benzonia. Spaulding, a widely published freelance writer and poet will make her debut as one of two interlocutors. White, who has founded, directed and danced in several American dance companies and has toured Europe, will join an ensemble of six dancers. The Michigan Council for Cultural Arts and Affairs and the Northsky NonProfit Network will fund this unique production.

This experimental dance work premiered in the 1930s and incorporated vaudevillian structures, folk rhythms, and spoken text, to examine the conflict and ever-evolving questions: “What is America?” and “What is an American?” Martha Graham is regarded as one of the foremost pioneers of modern dance. Her influence on dance can be compared to the influence Picasso had on the visual arts and Frank Lloyd Wright had on architecture. A performer of astounding productivity and originality, she invented a new language for movement, and used it to reveal the passion, the rage and the ectasy common to human experience.

“American Document” is directed by dancer-choreographer, Gretchen Eichberger, a former Glen Arbor resident, who currently lives in Benzie County. Her recreation of the work will feature excerpts from Michigan-born and Pulitzer-prize winning author Bruce Catton’s “Waiting for the Morning Train,” a memoir of boyhood in northern Michigan.

For tickets or inquiries, call the Mills Community House in Benzonia at (231) 882-0591 or visit www.millscommunityhouse.org.

Sun contributor

The popularity of 5K runs nationwide has been growing, and this summer Leelanau has seen its share of runs, trots, dashes, and challenges that raise funds for good causes, celebrate community, and get families outside in a fun, healthy activity.

This Labor Day Saturday, Sept. 4, will see a new entrant that combines all of these worthy goals, while wrapping up a lively Leelanau summer season. With the clang of an old-time farm bell, the first annual Port Oneida Run-5K Barn to Barn Trail Run/Walk will take off at 9 a.m. A free, quarter-mile kids’ Schoolhouse Dash to the Port Oneida School will also take place. According to Preserve Historic Sleeping Bear’s Director Susan Pocklington, 5K participants will enjoy running or hiking “through open meadows, forests, and spectacular views along Lake Michigan bluffs in the port Oneida Rural Historic District — a pastoral landscape of farmsteads from the late 1800s, nestled among the hills within Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore.”

Sponsored by PHSB, the $20 race fee will benefit the nonprofit organization’s programs, including an educational exhibit of homesteading at the Charles and Hattie Olsen Farm on M-22; preservation projects such as the upcoming Katie Shepherd Hotel porch restoration on North Manitou Island from August 20-29; and ongoing clearing of invasive, non-native plants from farm fields, returning them to their 19th- and early 20th-century agricultural appearance.

After the race, top finishers in several age categories, as well as overall male and female winners, will be awarded one-of-a-kind trophies: barn plaques, crafted of historic materials from past PHSB restoration projects by volunteer member and woodworker Herb Holdwick of Maple City. Prize drawings donated by local businesses and individuals include original artwork, posters, books by award-winning authors, gift certificates, culinary offerings, and much more. Food will also be available, say race organizers, and families may enjoy self-guided tours of the Olsen Farm, including its exhibit-in-progress.

Cassidy Edwards of Glen Arbor, two-time silver medalist in the Junior Olympics in cross country skiing and a competitive distance runner, designed the trail course for both serious runners and those who would enjoy a hike with beautiful vistas. She describes the run, which begins and ends at the Charles Olsen Farm, as a “unique (if sweaty) tour of Sleeping Bear’s historic Port Oneida farmsteads.”

It incorporates portions of the popular Bayview Trail, following old cattle paths through verdant forest glades, rising along late summer’s golden bluffs overlooking Lake Michigan, and winding past the meadows and orchards of several farms — and barns — whose names evoke more than a century of the pioneering energy that helped establish Port Oneida and southwestern Leelanau in the 1850s: Thoreson, Miller, Kelderhouse, Werner, Olsen, to name but a few.

The settlers’ legacy continues in the loving, ongoing restorations of their homesteads by groups such as PHSB, the Glen Arbor Art Association, Friends of Sleeping Bear, and the Manitou Islands Preservation Society, all in partnership with the National Park Service. With over 500 structures still extant (as well as fields, orchards, cemeteries, and rare varieties of grains such as rye), the Lakeshore contains the most complete historic agricultural collection in the country. Where else can participants in a fundraising event see so immediately the benefits of their enthusiastic support?

As Cassidy Edwards explains, “Participating in the Barn to Barn Trail Run means witnessing one of the most spectacular historic landscapes in the country. Come explore it, love it, and save it!”

Register online or download a race form now for the Port Oneida Run-Barn to Barn Trail Run/Walk at www.phsb.org. Early registration is $20, with the first 125 entrants receiving a 20-ounce aluminum water bottle with PHSB logo. Volunteers for the race day are also needed for a variety of easy tasks, helping to create a true community event. For more information, call Susan Pocklington at (231) 334-6103.

Sun contributor

When most people think of Glen Lake, they think of pristine, beautiful, colorful water nestled in the hills adjacent to Sleeping Bear Bay and the unique setting that inspires us all. So, are they right in thinking this? Is Glen Lake really the unspoiled gem of the Midwest? If it is polluted, how would you know? Can you tell just by looking at it? Can’t we infer from the crystal clear water, sandy bottom, and gorgeous color all add up in one’s mind as being a lake with high water quality?

Fortunately, the answers to these questions are found in part to a long time scientific study that the Glen Lake Association has conducted for more than 25 years running. Each year, the water quality committee, under the supervision of Rob Karner, the Glen Lake Association’s watershed biologist, performs a “Cladophora Survey”. The purpose of this survey is to pinpoint along the shoreline where excess nutrients like phosphorous and nitrogen (pollutants) are entering the lake. These two pollutants come mainly from septic and or lawn fertilizers but can enter the lake naturally. These pollutants stimulate the growth of a harmless but an indicator species of algae called Cladophora. Cladophora acts much like the canary in the coalmines. It indicates whether the coal mine air is safe to breathe. It is an algae that can only attach to rocks, logs, and other stationary objects. It cannot grow in loose sand.

For over 25 years, the shoreline of Glen Lake (both Little Glen and Big Glen) has been observed during the summer by two researchers (see photo) who walk along the shore in hip boots. They are equipped with a GPS, data sheets, and a measuring device. As they walk the shore and encounter live Cladophora, they mark it‘s location on the GPS and measure the dimensions of the algae – length and width of the algae growth and length of the algal filaments. From the collected shoreline data, a map of Glen Lake is constructed from the GPS coordinates illustrating where the “hot spots” are found. The number of Cladophora sightings along with how large the area is, helps answer the question “How polluted is Glen Lake?” If the data shows large number of Cladophora positions around the shore along with large dimensions, then more pollutants are entering the lake than is desirable. The degree at which we can claim that Glen Lake is polluted is an arbitrary one. In general, Glen Lake IS a pristine lake and does maintain very high water quality. That is very reassuring.

However, claiming Glen Lake water quality as being pristine is like claiming we are the world champion in 2010. Who will be the world champion next year and subsequent years after that? We need to put our time, energy, and resources into maintaining Glen Lake’s water quality every day. If we let our guard down and neglect how pollutants enter the lake, then Glen Lake water quality will deteriorate. In short, we will no longer be champions.

If you want to know how you can do your part in keeping Glen Lake water quality high, then contact the Glen Lake Association, P.O. Box 245, Glen Arbor, MI and request a manual that will assist you in how to be a good steward of the watershed. You can also contact Karner at rkarner@leelanau.org or (231) 334-5831. If you would like to see the map that summarizes what shoreline has “hot spots”, he will send you a copy. For more information about Glen Lake Association, visit us at www.glenlakeassociation.org.

On Wednesday, August 18 at 8 p.m. Singer/Songwriter Trina Hamlin and the Canadian Folk Duo The Laws will perform outdoors on The Leelanau School graduation green, located at the private school just north of Glen Arbor. Rain location is The Leelanau School Student Center.

Trina Hamlin combines gentle understanding with raw emotion in a way that is, quite simply, captivating from the first note.

With a rich, powerful voice, Hamlin reveals a rare confluence of Midwestern innocence, contemplative focus, and raw passion while adding a disarmingly sharp wit in her stage banter. She seamlessly moves from guitar to piano with self-accompaniment on harmonica leaving many who have seen her wondering what she can’t do. Regarded as one of the best harmonica players around, in her performance Hamlin presents a driving, sensuous rhythm reawakening audiences to the art of the instrument. In the current climate of “sounds like” artists and “heard it before” lyrics, Trina offers an intelligent and refreshing musical experience. Her unique combination of ballads, folk-rock and blues has earned her a steady national following.

Trina tours full-time throughout the United States and Europe. Additionally, she is a much sought after harmonica player and percussionist, accompanying numerous nationally recognized singer/songwriters in the studio and live on stage. With unapologetic emotional freedom, Trina’s songs have the unique power to mirror and evoke the obvious and unspoken realities of life and being in love.

The Laws: Chatham, Ontario-born John Law had a lifelong interest in music, but his exposure to it as a child was limited. His father had a Roger Miller greatest hits album, and a Johnny Cash album, and that was all. But John learned every nuance of both records on his black acoustic, and he became infatuated with the guitar after being inspired by his sixth grade teacher, who often entertained the class with Bob Dylan tunes played on “a big ol’ electric Gretsch guitar,” according to John. “That did it for me; that hooked me. I just wanted to play guitar after that.”

Born in Kingston, Ontario, Michele Law, though growing up doing “a lot of harmony singing” with her sisters at home, was about as far from music as she could get when she met John; she was a hospital fundraiser, and she played no instruments at all. “John taught me to play guitar; we’d have friends over to jam and it was all guitar players.” So I said, “Maybe you should teach me how to play bass.” Then I found out that I’m the third chick bass player in my family! When we were at home alone, John would play and sing songs and I would sing harmony with him we instantly had this incredible vocal blend and it was just so … easy between us. Fast forward to 2009 … now with 8 years of touring throughout Canada, the United States and Australia, and 5 CDs, Ontario-based The Laws have been called “the best duo out of Canada since Ian and Sylvia.”, won the 2007 Chris Austin Songwriting contest, secured a writing deal in Nashville and have been featured on CMT, Entertainment Tonight Canada and as “rising stars” on the upcoming PBS special, Legends and Lyrics.

This is the Manitou Music Festival’s 20^th season of exciting and diverse concerts in beautiful Leelanau County, featuring jazz, classical, blues, folk, country, celtic, bluegrass and world music in some of Michigan’s most idyllic settings.

Please Visit the Festival website for information and tickets: www.manitoumusicfestival.com. All Tickets are $15 (Children 18 and under are FREE.) Tickets may be purchased at concert venues, or by calling the Glen Arbor Art Association (231) 334-6112 or Lake Street Studios (231) 334-3179. The Manitou Music Festival is a presentation of the Glen Arbor Art Association, a nonprofit (501(c) 3) organization.