Beaver Island in pictures

The majority of my vacation time last month was spent at Beaver Island, the spot where my parents bought a summer home last year. Their decision to do this was not based on mere whim. Our family has been going to this place for decades — my father, for more than 40 years; my mother, since before she was married to him; and my sister and myself, since we were both infants. Prior to this trip, I hadn't been to Beaver Island since about 1995, so returning there after more than 13 years was a bit of an adventure. (View my pictures here.)

The island is part of a chain of at least 10 located in northern Lake Michigan and is the only inhabited one among them. This — plus the fact that it's only accessible via a two-hour ferry ride from one small town on the mainland, and the fact that it's far removed from any major city — creates a wonderful sense of solitude and tranquility. For all its beauty, Beaver Island is nothing like Mackinac Island or Door County. "Islanders," as the year-round residents are called, would actually resent such a comparison.

I've always had a soft spot for the Great Lakes — I think they comprise one of the most magnificent regions on earth — but Beaver Island is a rare gem even there. It's the type of place where everyone waves at each other when passing by on gravel roads (the only paved streets are in the island's only town, tiny St. James); where you can return and pay later if you don't have enough cash to cover your purchase at the local fish market; where people simply don't lock their doors, and no one worries about it; and where you can take a walk on a gorgeous sandy beach along Lake Michigan or through a dense Northwoods forest and not encounter even one other person. It's a glimpse at a lifestyle that everyone dreams of, but that most believe doesn't exist anymore. Perhaps that's because this place has remained undiscovered after so many years, thanks in large part to its geographical isolation.

I hope it stays that way forever. I'm not a terribly spiritual person — but visiting such a place, away from the hustle and bustle of modern life where creation can be observed in its unadulterated majesty, is unforgettable. Indeed, observing a sunset over Lake Michigan (the picture doesn't begin to capture the essence), or lying on the beach at night and looking at a vast, ink-black sky with stars so bright they seem to pierce through the darkness, makes it extraordinarily difficult to deny the existence of an omnipresent creator beyond the realm of human perception and intellect.

I invite all my friends to consider a trip to Beaver Island next summer. We have a place for you to stay — and if your experience there resembles the ones I've had over the years in any way, you won't regret it.