Wednesday, 01 July 2009
Autumn Adventure
By liloldme
Allergies and an aging carpet that required removal before winter gave me the perfect opportunity to explore northern Michigan.
There was a closed Air Force Base that was being converted into community living that my husband and I had talked about as a possible location for a summer home, giving me a good destination, and a mission. Hubby was retired and eager to tackle the carpet, planning to remove it a section at a time, so I planned to be gone for about a week.
It was late October and fall was in her most serious mood. The trees were wearing their glorious colors, tossing their amber and golden leaves into the wind like a flower girl at a medieval wedding. Kids were back in school, the roads less traveled and attractive off-season rates beckoned at every curve in the road.
As I neared the closest town to the old military base, I kept my eye out for condo rentals. Sure, I could have researched before leaving home, but where's the adventure in that? Besides, I figured a military base would naturally attract lots of lodging establishments from which to choose.
Hmmm, there were the usual inns, some lakefront cottages, a couple of motels - perhaps on the other side of town?
I drove beyond the town - not much there except what looked like a really good sized supermarket. About to turn around and head back to town and voila - just off the road stood two condo complexes with a "for rent" sign glowing in the window of the managers office. Perfect!
The two units had eight condos per unit and they were all vacant. Lake Huron was just a short walk from the patio outside my door. Off I went to the supermarket for supplies and a quick call on my cell phone to inform hubby of my whereabouts.
I had brought along my scrapbook and all the necessary materials to work on, so I was about as happy as any camper could be.
On the following day, I explored the town and base, collecting pamphlets, and took lots of pictures.
The next day, having seen on the TV in my unit, activities for the weekend in the area, I saw that a nearby town was having a craft sale. Inquiring directions of the manager, I wrote: “three-and-a-half miles north, left at the blinking yellow light, keep going until you see a white church at the top of a hill, turn right and that road will lead you into town.”
The bright blue sky accented the colors of the falling leaves and the cooler weather was refreshing after the hot summer.
The next day I had a conversation with the wind and waves on the shore of Lake Huron as I paraded myself along the empty beach attempting to find a spot in which my cell phone would work. Alas, the only place I could make my daily telephone connection with hubby was the supermarket about two miles for the condo.
There was a phone in my unit, but it had been turned off. There was a hard wired phone in the manager's office if need be, but she left for the day about five o'clock in the evening, as did the maid service.
The steady, falling rain of the following day made the colors pop. The carpet of glowing leaves danced on the blacktop of the parking lot. Thunder boomed and the wind whipped the trees into a frenzy, ripping the leaves and hurtling them at the windowpanes. I knew I had to make my usual four o'clock call to hubby or he would begin to pace, so I got in my car and headed for the supermarket, the wind daring me to outrace the storm.
In the parking lot of the supermarket, my call went through, but the hail now assailing every inch of my car made it almost impossible to hear. I assured hubby that I was fine, would call the next day and headed back to the condo. On the way back I spotted a Pizza Palace and decided that was just the ticket on a night - for it was now black as pitch - such as this.
The wind was moaning as I took the hot pizza into my lonely unit, the darkened eyes of the windows all around reminding me of my isolation. Turning on all the lights, I picked up a paperback novel left by the owner or previous tenant and began to read. At hand were matches and candles should the storm grab the electricity and add it to the flashes of lightening. Perhaps the sound of TV would be more soothing than the crashing waves screaming to be admitted and pounding on the patio doors.
As I read, I became accutely aware that it was hunting season, and on the road a few feet from my door were truck loads of drunken hunters, shotguns loaded and looking for prey.
Suddenly I heard the sound of doors being slammed and I crept to the windows, peered through the blinds and saw with a great deal of relief, a family unloading suitcases and going into a unit a couple of doors down from me.
Perhaps I should have chosen a novel other than one written by Stephen King.
All's well that ends well, but that storm certainly heightened my autumn adventure.
[EDITORIAL NOTE: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. Instructions for submitting are here.]
Posted by Ronni Bennett at 05:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post
Comments
Yes, being alone in a strange town and a new condo was not the time to read Stephen King.
You brought back a memory of a story about a woman who was the first tenant in a Condo. The movers had broken one of her crystal animals and, unaware of that fact, she convinced herself that there was was an intruder in the building. She became so frightened that she lost all sense of reality. That would be me.
You are a brave woman.
Posted by: Darlene on Jul 1, 2009 10:10:53 AM
I was in Bismark ND from Seattle to watch a son wrestle at a college event there in February. Went to sleep reading Jurassic Park, woke up dreaming the T. Rex was looking in my 2nd floor motel window. Eek. Exploring the plains covered by snow in every direction was an adventure. First trip alone after the kids moved out.
Posted by: Celia on Jul 1, 2009 11:02:56 AM
