Some friends of ours have a lovely home they built right on the shore of Lake Superior. Standing on the brink of a 50 foot cliff, it overlooks the endless waters. We arrived just past noon, and sat down to a wonderful lunch they had prepared for our arrival.

   Breathtaking cliffs rise heavenward.
They had been inviting us for years to come up, but for various reasons we had never made the trip. “The Sea Caves,” they told us. “You must come and see the Sea Caves.”

The thought of the caves was incredibly exciting. Sculpted by slashing waves, freezing ice, and endless winds, they were said to be beautiful beyond compare. But little did we know we would discover something just as beautiful in the home of our friends.

After lunch, we ventured out to the caves. The weather was awful – strong winds brought intermittent rain, and most of the ice was covered by at least an inch of water. The result was uneven, slick footing that nearly sent us to the ground numerous times. Rebecca, of course, isn’t supposed to fall since her fractured pelvis is still healing, and our progress along the frozen water, gazing up at the caves as they rose beside us, was immensely slow. 
                             Rebecca stands in awe of Lake Superior's majesty.

The Department of Natural Resources only opens up the winter route for a couple of weeks a year. Some years it’s not open at all. The ice is simply too unpredictable.

Even in the best of times, things can go wrong on Lake Superior. A man and his children had to be rescued last year when the ice they were standing on broke free and started drifting out to sea. They had to be picked up by helicopter. And along the cliff-edges, rock and ice is always tumbling down from overhead.

            Stalactites of ice.
Still, it was easy to forget the dangers as we looked in wonder at the formations of rock and ice. We reached out and touched. We drank in the wind and sometimes took shelter in a cave when the weather grew too grey. At times, we could stand straight and the wind would scoot us along the ice while we stood perfectly still.

Nature is the ultimate artist. Everywhere we looked there was some new wonder to behold. Blades of stone sloped down onto ledges, archways curved overhead, and small, mysterious holes led away into darkness. The ice took on strange colors, and left tales of having once been wave or water-drop. It was truly spectacular.

The travel back was treacherous. Bracing against the wind, sometimes sliding backward, we picked our way along as darkness slowly grew on the horizon.

When we finally arrived back, exhausted and delighted, our friends served us dinner and we recounted our visit to the caves. You’ll recall that I said we found something equally as beautiful as the caves right there in our friends’ home. You see, these two are people who would have a right to complain about their lives. She has MS, and he was recently diagnosed with cancer. And that’s just the last chapter in a story that recounts dreams dashed, fortunes lost, and enough tragedies to make a person weep. But these two have something that surpasses all those sad tales, that makes them into one of the most inspiring couples we’ve ever met. And that something is love.

Nature's art is unparalleled.

They’ve been married for about 40 years, if I recall correctly, and they still seem like newly-weds. They are always smiling, always engaging each other. Their delight in each others’ presence is obvious in every moment. MS and cancer, though frightening to many people, seem like trivial matters in lives filled with this much love.

We stayed the night and then drove home, inspired by natural beauty and the power of love to overcome despair. The hills and woodlands of the great Chequamegon forest rose about us, and we felt very lucky to be surrounded with so much beauty.

Here’s to good friends, forests where wolves still howl, and the eternal power of love.

Some gifts are meaningful beyond words.

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