Summer in the Midwest

As I entered Minnesota, land of 10,000 lakes according to their license plates, I suddenly realized that summer is better to the Midwest than the western states. Instead of forest fires, dry desert heat, and a generally hazy and overexposed landscape, the Midwest is lush and green, a humid air that smells of growth and vitality. And I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but in Wakefield, Michigan, as the sun was setting over an inland lake, trees and reeds and docks reduced to silhouettes I actually thought: I missed the Midwest. Maybe this is more of a big deal for me. I’ve been so westerly-oriented the past three years, toting the glory upon glory of the sublime mountains and oceans. For the first time in awhile, I had a sense of returning home, to a landscape of my youth. This comforted feeling was short-lived as I was about to complete the transformation from an excited road tripper to a crazed and battered kind of driver.