Intertwines

An excerpt from part two...

Madeline Island
It was a sunny, cool day as Carol and I left Bayfield and drove onto the ferry. A heavy- set man in a yellow vest directed us to our parking spot and then told us we had the choice of staying in the car, sitting inside the covered area or standing out on the deck, adding that it would be much warmer inside. Cold or not, we couldn’t resist being outside, watching firsthand as we approached the island. The cool breeze became a crisp, cold wind as the captain increased the speed to cross the two and one half miles of water that separated the island from the mainland. Carol and I found a sheltered corner, and tucked in our warm jackets, relished the beauty.
My bare hand holding on to the cold metal bar to steady me, the cold moist wind brushing my face, the wonderful fresh smell of the legendary waters of Lake Superior, the small islands barely visible in the distant haze, and the pure beauty of this northern wilderness -- are all memories of my first trip to Madeline Island. Little did I know that one memory, yet unknown, would stay with me and draw me back.
Hundreds of years ago this lake, the largest of the great lakes, was known to the native Ojibwe as Gitchigumi (meaning Great Water). As the ferry began to slow for our approach at La Pointe I could feel the rich and deep history of this small land. The beautiful, rugged shore of Madeline Island was breathtaking. The island, the largest of 22 islands that make up the Apostle Islands archipelago, is named for Madeline Cadotte, daughter of Chief White Crane and wife of fur trader Michael Cadott.
When the ferry came to a complete stop at the dock, the cold wind ceased and the sun’s rays were once again warming. It was mid-autumn and the tourist season was at an end. The quiet time had begun on Madeline Island…a perfect time to explore. Disembarking and driving the car onto the island, I recall the simplicity of the little town of La Pointe. There were a few shops, but what caught my attention was the museum, the tourist center listing all of the historical spots, and the signs pointing to the old Indian Cemetery. Everything we saw told us that the history of this island was an important part of who the people living there today are.
Our first stop was at the visitor’s center to pick up a map. Then with a sense of the unknown, we set out to explore the small island that is only 14 miles long and 3 miles wide. With the ferry running every half hour, we knew we would have plenty of time to see everything and still be back on the mainland in time for dinner. We drove slowly, at one point stopping to watch a black bear foraging along the side of the road. Carol’s car was a hybrid, so the engine at idle has no noise and the bear did not hear us. The bear has always represented strength and fairness to me. It’s a special animal, one that walks the land clearly respecting the nature it is a part of. The bear is an animal of honor and I have always honored it. We had watched for a short while when I decided to get out of the car to take a picture. Silent as I was, he sensed me and scurried into the forest for cover.
After entering the park, I spotted a wooden fence along a high cliff overlooking the water. It called to me--felt alive with its own hidden secrets. I asked Carol if she would mind stopping. Parking the car we wandered off in different directions, I to the highest spot along the fence and Carol several yards away to a shady spot under a large tree. We both meditate and love to indulge in moments of solitude…a time to rest our mind and take pleasure in the beauty surrounding us. However, that moment took on its own life.
Gazing out over the water, I was held, as if in a moment of time. I stood there that day as I understood my present life in time to be, yet I was seeing into another day, one of a time long ago. I was seeing a Native American community moving through their daily life. They were living their lives at the same time I was living mine; it was a blending of centuries, hundreds of years apart, seen at the same time. I was a part of them. I could hear them, feel their energy, their emotion ... I knew them as I currently know my own family. I watched them talking, children running and playing while women were gathered in small groups cooking over open fires. It was clearly the spring season, with wild flowers springing forth on the forest floor. There was a feeling of peace within this small group. These people were living in comfort within themselves. They had developed an idyllic life on this small island.
Then suddenly … a stabbing pain pierced me, an emotional pain so debilitating it totally filled my body and the very air I breathed. I turned my attention to a small plot of land on a very different day, clearly a different time in history. I could feel the moist chill in the air of the fall, gray day as I witnessed a somber ceremony; a child, a young boy was being buried. A native woman was standing there, standing tall and straight, staring at the grave. I felt her grief move through me, a grief of such magnitude that she appeared frozen in time. I knew that she was the mother of the young boy. She exuded an aura of defiance to those around her. There were three men in black robes who were officiating over the ceremony. Everyone else wore western dress but the mother stood tall in her native attire. It was made of deer skin tanned to light beige with turquoise, white, and coral beading; her black hair was braided. The thing that stood out was the necklace that she wore; it was oval with a coral center surrounded with turquoise and white beads. She held herself separate from everyone else; she saw nothing except the open grave in front of her. Around her, with other members of her family, one sister stood out. This sister was filled with love for her younger sister and was the only one who understood the intense grief. I could feel that she held a strong fear for her sister, but I couldn’t sense why the older sister would carry such a fear.
The vision slowly faded. I searched for more but it was ending, there was no more to be seen at this time. The intense vision was gone--except now--forever within me.