Empyrean
Empyrean
There is a place — deep in the old-growth woodlands of hemlocks, sugar maples, and white pines — where reverence and awe bless the passers-by. In this place, a river rolls along moss-covered rocks and shimmers in the sunlight which slips through the tops of the tall trees.
The river is christened the Little Carp River – a name that belies its beauty. In the far western region of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, it wanders through a valley in the Porcupine Mountains and flows into Lake Superior.
In the woods surrounding the Little Carp, quietness has its own soft sound. The burble of the river, the titter of songbirds, the tapping of pileated woodpeckers, and the drumming of ruffed grouse are hushed by the soft undergrowth and towering trees. In midsummer, the trees cast cool shade over the forest floor. Pine needles pad the ground and the dark green shiny leaves of the blue bead lilies grow low among the amber needles. The damp, sweet smelling earth repeatedly rises and falls from the low cedar swamps, up and down hills, and onto high ridges overlooking the river.
A foot path loosely follows the river, curving into the woods, looping back toward the banks, disappearing at a river’s edge, and then emerging on the other side. The tawny water moves slowly and gracefully in some spots and forms coffee-colored, placid pools in others. It slips over stones in the shallows, then tumbles down a waterfall just beyond a bend.
The waterfalls are magnificent. There are many along the Little Carp – some with names, such as Greenstone Falls and Overlooked Falls, and some unnamed, as if no one could find just the right words. And in between, the river roams the woods, stretching through raspberry patches, swirling under logjams, gliding across flat rock, and flowing by fern-laden banks.
This is a place where God walks before you, leading you down the path, proudly pointing out the sights and sounds. And although you can’t stay, God and the essence of the place will follow you home.
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