Next to one side of our screen porch is an abelia bush. Now in early August, it is covered with small, white nectar producing blossoms, so each morning the hum of bumblebee wings bathes the summer air as they move from bloom to bloom for the bush’s sweet juice of life. It is a morning music that I have come to anticipate during these past days; however, earlier this week a visitor graced the bush in its search for some of the same life-giving nectar: An eastern tiger swallowtail butterfly with its full yellowed wings trimmed in black with a bit of blue, joined the bees in the nectar dance of the abelia. The splash of blue identifies this particular swallowtail as a female.
The swallowtail is a large butterfly and a regular summer visitor to the Lake Norman area. Its bright yellow wings dazzle in the morning calm as it dances from bloom to bloom, and because of its size, the swallowtail appears too large to light on one of the delicate, white blossoms. But despite the size difference, the swallowtail perches over and over onto different blooms–in a ballet developed by a force stronger than any we know of, or any we can comprehend.
I read somewhere that a bumblebee, based on aerodynamics, cannot fly. According to physics, it is too heavy and round in relation to its wing size to fly. As I watch and hear the flying bumblebees at the abelia bush, I wonder if the bumblebees know that they cannot fly. But they have other things to consider each morning, and the rapid movement rate of their wings adds a soft hum to the morning.
The swallowtail, like the bumblebees, is an amazing animal. Its life cycle began just weeks before as a small, round egg on a leaf. Going through metamorphosis of four stages, this beautiful female swallowtail that I watch is the result of a process scientist do not yet fully understand. But I do not need to understand how the butterfly came to be any more than I need to understand the Milky Way in order to appreciate the beauty of both. In his poem, When I HeardThe Learn’d Astronomer, Walt Whitman tells of having attended a lecture where he saw all the charts and proofs and heard all the explanations, but upon leaving the lecture, he “Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.”
Explanations and proofs are of value and are even necessary at times. However, each morning watching the insects fluttering about the abelia bush, I am filled with amazement that such delicate animals and small, white blossoms serve such a vital role in the world. And here it is each morning, a free show if I slow down to see it–a dance of life that gives new life for the cycles of life on our “small blue dot.”
David took a bike trip up around the Great Lakes. I wonder if the 100 plus temperatures had anything to do with his decision??? Anyway, here is the link to read about the first day on his trip. ENJOY!!!
Great Lakes Adventure Begins
In 2023, I rode north on the western side of Lake Superior to the Canadian border and then returned by the same route to Duluth, Minnesota. I spent about eight days on the largest Great Lake, but I have already cycled on all of them. When looking at my options for a short driving, cycling and running adventure for this summer, I saw a chance to see some of the areas I had not previously visited.
I described the best possible plan in last weekend’s paper, but here it is in a nutshell. I drove yesterday about 650 miles from home to Port Huron, Michigan. I made great time driving until hitting Detroit at rush hour, which was no fun. My GPS kept changing to a different street trying to get on one that was moving and finally at almost 7pm last night, I made Port Huron. The highlight of the Detroit experience was seeing the Chrysler buildings, and yes, they were huge.
On Thursday, July 31st, I woke up to 62 degrees and drizzling rain at the Huron Inn Motel. I had a good deal on a nice motel in quiet surroundings. I still didn’t get enough sleep after the day that began at 4am. Before leaving, I got great tips and good conversation from the motel owner, Ashwin Patel. He shared information on a cyclist that he follows on You Tube who has now ridden in well over 100 countries. I promised to send him several of my books, and I suspect we will stay in touch.
Driving north on Michigan Highway 25, the first significant town was Lexington, Michigan. A spectacular former town hall, a huge 1882 hotel and a walkable downtown with lots of interesting shops. Many old buildings currently in good use have made this historic town a great start. By this time, I was driving for the most part along the edge of Lake Huron. Many towns have a marina and are part of a Circle Tour boat excursion.
Mostly small towns came every 20-30 miles and quite a few had historic highlights. I stopped often, grabbed photos and did some walking as I traveled over 200 miles of what is called the Thumb area of Michigan. You’ll see it on a map.
I stopped in Port Sanilac and began my lighthouse visits, just ahead of National Lighthouse Weekend. The Port Sanilac Light Station was built in 1886. It underwent a major restoration in 2015-2016. The dwelling, lighthouse and grounds are now privately owned and beautiful. The Sanilac Marina sits just below the lighthouse.
Next was the White Rock Light, now another private home. I then stopped at another highlight of the day, the Port Hope Chimney in Port Hope. The chimney was built in 1858 as part of a lumber mill that had become the dominant one in the Thumb area. The mill and other major buildings in town were destroyed by fire twice. Rail came to Port Hope in 1903 primarily because sugar beets had become a significant cash crop for local farmers. The beets were brought to the railyard by horse and wagon and then were hand loaded onto rail cars. The depot has been restored and was open for only a few minutes today, just as I found when I opened the door. Important folks were just leaving. Magnificent homes, circa 1880, were just across the road from Lake Huron. Bigfoot cutouts were seen on a revamped hardware store.
The best and biggest lighthouse of the day was the Pointe aux Barques Lighthouse which is the highlight of a Huron County Park. Built in 1849, the lighthouse and its original keeper family have an amazing story. Three acres of wilderness were cleared for the lighthouse from wilderness that was surrounded by Indians. A husband brought his wife and eight children to live in the keeper dwelling. One year later, the husband keeper died by drowning. His wife took over without official approval and kept the light and grounds going. She became the first recognized female keeper the next time the light was inspected. This is one of the 109 lighthouses in Michigan, the most of any state. The museum onsite was wonderful largely because of the stories and info provided by two volunteers, Jack and Tobi Graham, who have extensive knowledge of lighthouses all the way down to the Carolinas. A lifesaving station is also onsite, similar to those made famous on NC’s outer banks. Some historians estimate up to 10,000 shipwrecks occurred on the Great Lakes.
Next thing was a beautifully restored town from the mid-1850s, now listed as Huron City on the National Register of Historic Places. It all started with a steam powered sawmill and ended with a general store, a hotel and several magnificent homes that still remain.
In Sebewaing, the Sugar Beet Capital of the World, I saw the big plant of the Pioneer-Big Chief Michigan Sugar Company. There is a huge Sugar Festival associated with this town.
The last big town for the day was Bay City, birthplace of Madonna and the home of the U.S.S. Edison, a World War ll destroyer named for Thomas Edison. I didn’t see Madonna but did tour the Edison, a very well-done attraction.
My last stop for the night is a town called Pinconning, the Cheese Capital of Michigan. It is a small town with a nice motel and an all-day breakfast restaurant across the street. A loud train track is next door. I have now left the Thumb and am moving north again on the way toward Mackinac Island. I hope to tell all about this soon, so I will save any description until then. First up tomorrow morning hopefully is a brake repair on my truck, not my bike. Thanks for following along. See you soon!
A few years before David passed, he let me know he did not want a funeral. I remember cocking my head at him as I informed. “Well it won’t be for you. You won’t be there.” He nodded quietly then gently replied. “No… but you will. And I don’t want you to have to go through all that.” It was one of the most thoughtful things I’d ever heard. He was trying to save me the grief of picking out a casket, making arrangements, enduring visitation, and the next day attending a funeral plus a traditional graveside service; all the while, numb with grief and exhausted from losing the love of my life. Of course he didn’t know at the time that he would go first. We always thought it would be me since I’ve been the puny one. But the Lord had different plans. So when David went gently into his Savior’s arms four weeks ago, I had a decision to make. I knew our children were not going to be happy without honoring their dad somehow.
Thankfully they stepped in with a compromise. So together we planned a “Funeral Party.” Grace Bible Church opened their Fellowship Hall to us, then jumped in with both feet to make it happen. The Ladies of Grace, aptly named, provided a spread of finger foods that only a bunch of Church ladies know how to do. Pastor Jason piped in music over the speakers. His wife Michelle made handouts with David’s life story and his picture. She included the obituary I wrote about him so folks who’d lost touch with us would know where we’d been the last 50 or so years. Time flies and all that. Our three girls gathered pictures of David and the family. Stephanie compiled them digitally so that over 160 shots scrolled on a loop. Amanda and Hannah arranged photos on those black science project boards and placed those around. Suddenly David’s life was being remembered exactly as it was: full of laughter, fun, and faithfulness to the God he served, plus his family. Precious memories indeed.
We’re we exhausted by the end? Darlin’ we were exhausted before we started. But joy, what joy. God sweetly held us together and made us strong for the funeral party. No one felt pressured to say nice things or give a eulogy. The pictures said it all. Since it was not labeled a funeral, folks dressed comfortably as best I could tell. I know I did. Lots of hugs were exchanged and care was given. Students he taught and coached, friends we hadn’t seen in years, our pharmacist! Oh! so much love was poured out. Best of all, a faithful man was honored. It was in fact, the best party I’ve ever been to.
Taken one year earlier for our 50th anniversary flyer. Little did we know what the 51st year would bring. So thankful for this picture. I was so weak that day that I had on a nightgown and just covered it with a shawl. Praise God for giving us so many good days together.
If you’re a Christian, you know you carry the Hope of eternity with the gospel for a world that needs to hear it, but how does one initiate opportunities for such conversations? I have friends who are bold and courageous, getting straight to it while in line at a quick service counter, “Hey, we just came from church and are eating together here. Do you go to church? You don’t?! You should come to ours!” Sometimes, we let our server know when we are about to pray that we would be happy to pray for them if they feel comfortable sharing something. Many times, they have a specific need.
But one of my recent go-to questions for engaging people in the marketplace is looking for a person wearing a cross pendant around their neck. Believe it or not, on most errand days, I will usually connect with at least one. “Tell me about why you wear your cross or what it means to you?” I may be met with a bright smile and a ready answer to share the gospel with me! That has been refreshing and even surprising at times. I realized I had previously asked one young man at my local Harris Teeter this question when I recalled him giving a similar answer before. He began responding with the scripture on the back of the cross that helps him keep his focus when tempted to sin. I was amazed at his readiness to share something genuine and personal. I wondered aloud if he was often asked this question. He replied, “No, actually, I think you are one of the only people to ask.”
One young lady at my favorite coffee spot thanked me for recognizing her cross and engaging her. She was wearing three, actually, and commented that no one had ever asked her before why she wears them, which she thought was odd given the number of crosses she wore. She was excited to tell me about her relationship with the Lord in the church that she attends. The young lady further commented, “You know, it is strange that people wear it as a fashion statement, because why would people wear this for any other reason than a relationship with Jesus? Do people really know what this cross means? A yarmulke is also a piece of religious symbolism, but no one wears it as a fashion statement.” I smiled at her wisdom.
At other times, the answer is nostalgic: “My grandmother always wore one.” I will ask, “OK, but does that have any personal significance for you?” Since I cannot have a whole conversation in a 30-second interaction, I follow this up by urging them to seek out the meaning behind the cross and its significance. My hope and prayer is that as they think back over their day or evening, they revisit that interaction.
At other times, I have found people who wear it as a charm of sorts or only as a cultural identifier. The young Walmart cashier told me his thick black cross was a relative’s urn, which he wears for good luck. Another young man at the car wash wears one because he and his family attend church. When I asked him, “OK, but what about for you? Does that have any personal significance?” He was at least honest, saying, “Not really.” Again, I encouraged him to seek that out.
Linguistic theft (words no longer meaning what they once meant) and the hijacking of Christian symbolism mean that we can not make assumptions by what someone is wearing or plastering on their vehicles to determine what they believe. These can be great conversation starters to either find a common belief or question a belief with thought-provoking questions.
What are the ways you are using to connect with others deeply in one-minute or less interactions?
Ashlie Miller’s favorite cafes are Holy Grind and Press & Porter. You may contact her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.
It is time for students to head back to school. I remember as a kid that the first day of school was the day after Labor Day and the Jerry Lewis Telethon. Sadly, Jerry Lewis has passed away. Many of today’s youth have no idea of what a wonderful thing he did each year for Muscular Dystrophy. When I was growing up, we used to watch parts of his marathon show every year, mainly to see all the stars who would stop by and offer their support.
The next day was always the first day of school. Did your Mom make you take first day of school pictures? We always got some new clothes for the first day of school. We would stand on our front steps and hope our mother would include our heads in the picture. Most years we had good first day of school pictures.
Then it was off to the bus stop, where eight to ten kids gathered. Buses did not stop at every kid’s house. We had to walk to specific places and wait. On rainy days, the mother closest to the stop would open her garage door and we waited there for the bus. On cold winter days, we just stood out there and froze. Things have really changed.
Today, many parents or grandparents drop off and pick up their children from school. Naturally, many of the high school students drive themselves to school. I remember driving to school. There was a church in front of our school that allowed students to get parking permits. I always chose to park my car down there. It was just about a block walk and much better for getting in and out of school.
Regardless of how kids arrive, it is time to crank back up and begin the process of educating students once again. At the community college, we work year around. We have a nice break around the 4th of July and a great break at Christmas. I can relate to back to school a little as we just got a new batch of students a couple of weeks ago. When we start over with a new group there is lots of planning that goes into preparing for the new group of students. For 34 years I worked hard to make my classroom inviting and welcoming to students.
The real power to affect and change a student’s destiny doesn’t come through inspiring speakers, quotes, Power Points, or all the good planning that teachers will do. The real power comes through prayer. I have always prayed for schools, teachers, staff, and administrators. I want to encourage you to join me in praying for our school systems, including colleges. Your prayers can and will make the difference in whether the schools in your area will have a successful school year or one where teachers fail to reach students and change lives.
I believe in education. I believe teachers can help students understand the past so we won’t repeat the same mistakes again. I believe teachers can help students realize that math is vital to surviving in our society. I believe teachers can inspire minds to imagine where technology can take us. I believe teachers can help students discover the exciting world of science and how good health is within their reach. I believe teachers can help students discover outstanding writers who will take students on wild adventures. Every occupation in the world requires teachers to lead the way.
So I petition and ask you once again for your prayers. Your prayers can help students focus on learning. Your prayers can help to keep our schools safe. Your prayers can open students’ eyes to possibilities they never imagined. Your prayers and encouragement will keep students in school and engaged in the learning process. Your prayers will strengthen teachers as we endeavor to impart our knowledge. Your prayers make a difference.
I want to encourage you to pray for everyone in your educational system. Pray for the bus drivers and cafeteria workers all the way up to the superintendent. Pray for your kids, the neighborhood kids, your grandkids, for all the students who will be returning to schools…including private and home-schoolers. Teachers need your prayers if we hope to have a positive influence on the students who will fill our classrooms. I love being a teacher and the opportunity it gives me to influence lives. Let’s all hope and pray it will be a great year!
Personal note: My Dad passed away and I wanted to share his obit with you….
Dennis Joseph Creamer
November 22, 1932 to August 5, 2025
Dennis was a man with a slow smile who liked to debate the tough questions in life. He found many amazing people that would tolerate his persistence.
Dennis was an Army veteran that served in Korea. He was deeply moved by the respect that he was shown as a veteran when he took the Triad Honor Flight to Washington DC.
Having worked ever since he was a young boy delivering papers to the neighbors in Scranton, working his way up in the auto industry, and going into business for himself; Dennis was not prepared to give up meaningful employment when he retired from Nypro Carolina and just play golf. He enjoyed a variety of second careers that allowed time for golf and travel; bus driver and then Head of Transportation at Greensboro Day, Uber Driver and Valet car parker at the airport. He enjoyed traveling and experiencing new places. Morocco, Moscow and Leningrad Russia (in the winter), Mexico, Las Vegas, Niagara Falls, New England and a Holiday Tours Bus trip all the way to Deadwood, South Dakota and back. His favorite trip was to Boston where he saw his beloved Red Sox play two games in Fenway Park. He also enjoyed cruising and people-watching on the ships. One of the special cruises was around Cape Horn from Chile to Argentina and another included Canada, Labrador, Greenland, Iceland and Norway. He also cruised the Mediterranean and the Caribbean Seas and traversed the Panama Canal. During one trip he and Linda snuck on the famed Pebble Beach golf course. When he wasn’t working or traveling, you could find him playing Senior golf at Iron Play and kibbitzing with his buddies. He managed to hit a hole in one at the age of 90. Retirement turned out to be enjoyable.
Dennis is survived by his beautiful partner Linda Branch, children Denise (Tucker) Ritner, Dennis (Beth) Creamer, Doug (Marissa) Creamer, and Deborah (Jon) Hall, 13 grandchildren and 15 great grandchildren.
A celebration of life will be held on Sunday August 24 at 1:00 pm at Hanes Lineberry 515 N Elm Street, Greensboro, NC. If you plan to attend the service, come prepared to explain why.
In lieu of flowers or gifts please consider a donation to Triad Honor Flight https://www.triadhonorflight.org/donate/
Psalms 42:5-6 Why are you downcast, O
my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will
yet praise him, my Savior and my God. My soul is downcast within me;
therefore I will remember you from the land of the Jordan, the heights
of Hermon–from Mount Mizar.
Certainly, hope deferred or hope lost makes the soul sick.
The enemy tries to steal our hope which we may never give up, because while there is a God there is always hope.
We remind ourselves of who God is and
what He has already done in our lives and soon our hope returns and even
our confidence and faith.
Prayer:
Lord I look to You today and I even lift my face and eyes to the
heavens as a symbol knowing that You are always there for me and know
that You will always help me. I rejoice in You and praise Your holy name
because there is no one like You. Amen.
