Amongst the warm chatter of the Big Lake locals, the sizzling of pancakes on the grill, and the smell of strawberry syrup, this weekend Kaysey and I were reminded of the kindness of humanity with one small action.
Though it had only been a few weeks since Kaysey and I had seen each other, it felt like decades, so we decided to meet at the Lake Cafe in Big Lake, before heading on some outdoors adventures.
To my alarm, my GPS informed me that I was driving in the middle of the actual lake in town, despite the fact that I was clearly driving on paved road and not over water like some kind of miraculous traveler. My GPS didn’t recognize the grids of the actual streets, and consistently told me that there were roads that did not exist, or that I was driving on lawns, lakes, or limbo — thus, I was a few moments late to meet Kaysey, and likely looked a little frazzled upon entering the restaurant.
Actually, I know I looked pretty frazzled, because everyone stared at me as I stood in the doorway, blankly looking around for Kaysey before finally spotting her reading at a booth on the other side of the restaurant.
As always, we laughed until our stomachs ached, and ordered large mugs of hot chocolate and strawberry pancakes, because there was no one to tell us not to. No surprise, the pancakes were bomb.
After tearing up with laughter while we finished our dinner, the conversation drifted towards the somber reality of the world.
We voiced our frustrations on the lack of any kind of action taken between Orlando and Vegas to prevent our country from killing itself, we discussed the numerous hurricanes and what they left behind, and we talked about a pair of Minnesotans who barely escaped the fires in California but were saved by a set of strangers.
Then, the waitress stopped by our tables, and casually mentioned that someone had paid for our meal, but wanted her to wait to tell us until they had left. We asked her more about him, and she said it was an older gentleman who frequently came in to the restaurant and ate alone. We wondered if he’d overheard our conversation, or if he’d seen me run into the restaurant, flustered and looking for Kaysey — either way, he was a sweet gentleman who brightened our both of our days with his simple but kind gesture. We wondered who he was, why he was alone, and what made him want to do something nice for us.
We talked about ways to pass it on, and continue the cycle of kindness (stay tuned), before finishing our meals and setting off on our next adventure.
Next on the docket? Sand Dunes State Forest, where we once again confirmed that Minnesota is the most beautiful state.
We walked along the lake, admiring the leaves that punctuated the woods with garnet and gold. We watched the clouds floating in the reflection on the water, and hiked back to the main trail we’d began on, just near the mouth of the beach. When we emerged from the woods, the sun had lit the trees along the lake, bright against the grey sky.
We found new paths to hike along as the sun began to set. Autumn was setting in everywhere: the maple-colored leaves, the burnt orange trees, and the sun smoldering the horizon into dusk.
We spotted a fire tower in the distance — it would have been a beautiful time of day to climb to the top, but we were unable to locate it before the sun set. An adventure for another time.
We made our way to Lake Maria State Park, which I’d been to before I got my State Parks Passport, and I finally got my stamp!
This marks number 18 on my list, though I’ve visited 23 out of 75. Just 30 percent there!
We walked down to the dock by the lake, where we stayed, chatting until it was dark. The sun (or lack thereof) made this particular trip to Lake Maria short, but still worthwhile.
Where to next? The grandest out-of-state adventure…
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