Cabe Lands Trails

The weather has been temperamental lately. Not in a threatening Oklahoma-like way, but in a way that tends to happen when spring begins trying to push winter out. It may be freezing, snowy, rainy, and downright warm all within the same week. It is on those intermittent warm days that we try to make it outside.

Last week it was the Cole Mill Trail along the Eno River. And most recently we visited another area of the river, the Cabe Lands Trails, for the first time. It was interesting to discover that the area is part of the Mountain-to-Sea trail. Once complete, the trail looks to run from the smoky Mountains to the Atlantic coast. Not quite ready for that kind of commitment Liz and I stuck with the Cabe Lands Trail and the Quarry Trail. The first took us to the banks of the Eno River, and the latter to the old rock quarry.

Because it was a weekday afternoon the trails were empty. It was nice to be seemingly removed from the beating heart of Durham, and hear only the river running, the birds chirping, and the rustling of small animals in the dry leaves. Next time we will have to explore the ruins of an old grist mill, as well as the Cabe family cemetery, we have since heard about. 

Prompted By The Weather

Last night was the first ground-covering snow that I have seen here in Durham. The forecast was accompanied by the standard school closings, and magically disappearing milk and bread from the grocery stores. A disruption from the norm that brings both uncertainty and excitement to a city.

Similar uncertainties, coupled with exciting feelings, are taking place as Liz and I plan what we want our wedding to look like. As I look to redirect my career path. As we decide what we want our home, future, and family to look like. Prompted by the weather, I found myself physically and mentally pausing to take in the snow, build a fire, and sit down with a book or few (I seem to have a theme at the moment). It was appropriate to take a moment to acknowledge the less than routine activities that are taking place, and recognize that it is all part of the adventure. An adventure that leads to Spring then on to the future we have been working so carefully to build. 

A Modest Proposal

This time last year I was drafting a story – found here – that began by describing our first kiss, and ended in asking Liz’s father for permission to ask for her hand in marriage. Considering that I finally asked Liz for her hand several weeks ago, the card from her parents (pictured above) is quite fitting.In envisioning the proposal I had seen a photo booth, a photographer, a romantic view, and a group of friends. As Liz succinctly put it after the fact, “He would have had a parade if he could”. While the proposal didn’t end up being the big to-do that I previously envisioned, I couldn’t have asked for a better moment.

So, it was her late grandmother’s ring. I put it in a pocket of my suitcase that would make its way to Michigan for the holidays. And then in another pocket. And then in another. Each consecutive pocket more secure than the one prior. I wasn’t certain when I would propose, but I wanted to be prepared should the right moment arise. 

The day after we arrived in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan we wanted to get out and explore the snow-covered beach. It was so different than we has seen it six months before. Then, we were kayaking and taking in the sun. Now, I was putting on snow pants over two already placed layers. I put the ring in a pocket of my jacket. And then in another pocket. And then in another. I thought how ridiculous I was being, and how my “safe” pocket options were running out. 

We ventured out into the balmy 20-ish degree weather. Lake Superior was freezing. The beach was covered in a thick layer of snow. The surrounding landscape was beautiful, peaceful, and nearly silent. The only sounds were our crunching footsteps backed by the subtle crackling of water gently moving ice, yet my mind raced. Did she see me touch my pocket? Did I touch my pocket? I don’t remember touching the ring in my pocket for the 24^th time. Did I lose it already? Be cool Micah. BE. Cool. Should I do it here? What about here? Not here. I couldn’t imagine going back to “the place where he proposed”, and it being some random person’s beach-front lot. It is amazing how a seemingly simple question can temporarily transform an easy-going guy into a neurotic mess. 

I took off my right hand glove to reach into a pocket for my phone. Not long after the phone met the bone chilling temperatures, the previously full battery went dead. No more photos for me, which was unfortunate. However, it was an acceptable casualty because it was then that I had the chance to pull the ring from my coat pocket, slip it on my own finger, and put my glove on over it.  Easy access. No digging in pockets if the opportunity arose, only an unveiling of sorts.

Our snowy hike took us back to the beach in front of the cabin. One of Liz’s favorite places. She had been on that beach every summer since she was born. Would a proposal there contribute to or alter meaning of that place? The question ran through my head as I unknowingly paced.

Liz was snapping pictures of me while I paced. Not knowing what was going through my head she said, “I want to take a selfie”. I’m not sure that I have ever heard those words from her. Nonetheless, it was an opportunity to capture the moment even though my phone had died. She asked me to take it of the two of us. I grabbed her phone, and began to reach out with my right hand before I saw the ring bulging from the thin black glove. “Wait. Switch me spots”. With my now left hand holding the phone I caught the moment, evidenced in a half-smile-smirk, that I knew that I was going to ask her that three-word question on that beach.

On the beach… in the snow… in front of the cabin… Liz asked the natural question, “What do you want to do next?” “I want to spend the rest of my life with you”, I said as I settled in with a snow-covered knee. “Yes”, she said as tears began running down her face, and she joined me kneeling in the snow.

After a few seconds I was surprised to find us both on our knees. We got to our feet, and were taking in the gravity of the moment before we heard BANG, BANG, BANG. We turned to the cabin to see Liz’s mom in the window with a camera. We smiled and waved thinking that she had seen it all. We found out later that she didn’t even know I had proposed, but did a great job of capturing the moments after, including me wiping a tear from Liz’s cheek. We composed ourselves before marching inside, and toasting to our collective future with a bit of Catdaddy, a North Carolina moonshine.

Come to find out, an intimate moment has the potential to be more fulfilling than one with much pomp and circumstance. As Liz pointed out, it was a moment that was shared by just the two of us.

For Liz's perspective, see her post here. 

A Winter Wonderland

Over Christmas Liz and I got the pleasure of meeting her family in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. From five different states we converged on a cabin on Lake Superior. Everything was beautifully snow-covered, and generally untouched until we made our way across it. Tubes were ridden down hills, and snowmobiles were driven down the beach.

It was amazing to see Superior’s surface constantly changing. One morning it would be full of gently undulating chunks of ice, and another it would be still and snow-covered as if it was a white, open field. It seemed to be trying to get comfortable before it froze over, and settled in for the colder months. And to think I was kayaking in that white, open field six moths prior.

Ultimately, it was a treat to spend the holiday around family, sitting in front of a fire, and forgetting what day it was because at the moment it really did not matter. 

Colin Meloy

A couple months ago Liz gave me one of my birthday gifts. Two tickets to see Colin Meloy of The Decemberists. Front row. Center. My initial, pure excitement that took place in September upon receiving the gift soon gave way to focusing on other priorities. At the time November was so far away.

November came. I found myself getting both excited and anxious. Would my admiration and love for The Deceberists result in uncontrollable giggling? It has happened before. Would I be reduced to tears? It has also happened before. I didn’t know.

The night began in our favorite Rigsbee Ave area. We had dinner at Geer Street before drinks at  Fullsteam. We continued with a walk to the Carolina Theatre.

Allow me to take a moment to express how much I love seeing anything at the Carolina Theatre. It is a beautiful setting to watch anything. A Clockwork Orange (first visit to Durham). The Godfather (first Easter in Durham). Moonrise Kingdom. The list goes on. In short, the Carolina Theatre sets the stage for whatever is being placed on your visual and/or audible plate at the time. 

Colin Meloy took the stage. A glass of red wine in hand. You had me a hello, Colin. 

His humor made me shed tears of laughter. He even engaged Liz on a few occasions, asking her in a playful manner, “What are you laughing at?” before prompting her to start singing so that the audience would follow suit. As the evening progressed, laughter turned to reflection, then… turned to joyful tears.

The night was extremely memorable, and one of the best postponed birthday gifts that a guy could have.