Wind, waves, and healing solitude

by Mary Sharry (reprinted from Detroit Free Press, 5/5/93)
Sun staff writer

There are various means of dealing with the complexity of loneliness. For me, a solitary walk along the shoreline of Lake Michigan in the Leelanau Peninsula offers resolution. The northern air, heavy with mist or light and crisp in sunshine and coolness, revives me. I also like to lose myself in minute discoveries along the shore.
I scan the horizon, the expanse of water and the sand where I walk — sand that is heavy and wet from the swell of the tide. I leave footprints, then turn to watch as they are washed away. Sometimes my footprints fall side by side with those of a deer that came down to the water for a drink earlier in the morning.
I pick up a wet, colorful stone and slip it into my pocket — something to take home to show my children.
A snow fence leans in the sand where someone placed it years ago. The once-bright orange wooden slats have grayed with age. The tilt of the fence creates an arc in its shadow. It reminds me of the subtle mystery of an Andrew Wyeth painting — a shadow of something left unsaid that pulls the viewer into a detailed element in the scene.
Old pilings from a dock of another era poke out of the water. From a distance, they look like the heads of seals off the California coast.
A dog follows me on this walk. Head high, he sniffs the air as he trots along. He seems to search for something ancestral to fathom his reason for being here.
For me, however, out here under the expanse of sky, with this enormous body of water before me — this is reality. Nothing else seems to matter at the moment. This solitary walk is my serious business. For the time being, this is the real world.
When do I return? When do I sense I have gone far enough? Usually a feeling of fulfillment or resolve comes to me. Perhaps it is because of the exertion of walking in the sand. I am ready — renewed, refreshed, sometimes enlightened, always uplifted. Sometimes I walk my way out of anger or hurt, confusion, sadness, loneliness, all the emotion human individuality bears.
Vital as human contact may be, there is another side — the singular, the solitary self — that needs to be touched, too. It requires the nourishment of nature. The walk along the shoreline of this great lake soothes and calms.
Sometimes, too, I walk along the beach for no other reason than that it is there. The urge to see distance is fulfilled. I am given a sense of freedom in open space, as I watch clouds build up over blue water.
What a gift! What a treasure — Lake Michigan, the Leelanau Peninsula.