In the middle of all the snowstorms and soggy showers, who would’ve thought that a piece of heaven could be found in Michigan. Sigh and it took me two years to put some effort into finding it. A few days before jetting off to New York, a bunch of us sophomores arranged a day trip to South Haven (alright, a couple of freshmen as well), situated 2.5 hours away by Lake Michigan.
Coming into contact with a body mass of water in Michigan was such a liberating experience. Sand on the beaches was fine as salt, and the freshwater lake meant no saltiness in the water. A pity it was a little too chilly to go for a dip. But the spotless horizon was what got me gazing for long periods of time. Lake Michigan is so huge you can easily see it on the world map; throw in a dozen Singapore islands and it’d still fall short in size.
The sound of crashing waves sparked a rare flare of spontaneity; me and Jian Wei decided to spend one night in South Haven. We were hosted by a luxurious Bed & Breakfast Inn just one block from the beach. It became the oft-fantasized dream of a warm cottage by the sea, all in the midst of springtime. Beyond the sand and water, there’s not much else to do in South Haven. The town looks quaint and stuck in mid-20th century aesthetics; while pleasing, there’s nothing more to it.
I may not be heading back there too soon, but an occasional trip can be uplifting, especially if you’re a water person who grew up close to water or on an island. Lake Michigan is almost like a calling — one that beckons us to come home.