We’ve got friends up in Hovland (further up Highway 61). They live in a dovetail log cabin they built themselves, from trees they cut on their property.
Going up to visit them often reminds me of when we lived at Wilderness Canoe Base: a tiny cabin (for a year with no plumbing) on a lake, an hour out of town, way out of cell phone range.
The thing that strikes me is the quiet. Even though Grand Marais isn’t a bustling, noisy city by any means, it’s not truly quiet the way the woods are.
I went for a walk through their property and came across these two slugs in quiet conversation. Perhaps they need a story written about them… Let me know if you do.