Karen Wils photo

ESCANABA — Memorial Day and mosquitoes, bold American flags and fragile newborn fawns. The school year wanes away, and the camping season commences. Memorial Day weekend in Upper Michigan is an emotional thing.

There is time spent at cemeteries. Gone but never forgotten are the men and women who gave their life for our freedom.

Mom’s get teary eyed at graduation ceremonies.

Kids are excited for the last day of school. We try to have picnics and baseball games near the Bay, but the stiff breeze is always cold.

Geraniums and petunias hope for a frost-free weekend as they dangle from porches and line the walkways.   

Overgrown apple trees, riddled with woodpecker holes, bloom so gentle, pink and white. A sweet fragrance perfumes the air. The scent was enjoyed by our grandparents and great grandparents in this old orchard.

Family pictures and photos of students wearing caps and gowns were taken with the apple blossoms in the background.

Hummingbirds and bees buzz contently.

Memorial Day weekend in Upper Michigan is an emotional thing.

My early memories of Memorial Day weekend are of the red, white, and blue flag waving on our front porch and then the first of the season overnight spent at camp.

Dad was happy because it was trout season, but the river was typically too high to wade in late May decades ago. Most years, Dad gave it a try anyway.

It was an adventure packing up and going to sleepover at camp with six kids, two parents and a spotted old dog. Enough warm, dry clothes for kids who always got too close to the river was a must, and an ice chest filled with food for three meals, plenty of snacks and the biggest treat of all, a can of Shasta pop for each kid.

I can still recall the smell of the Cutter insect repellant that we used.

Dad would fetch pails of clean cold artesian water from the spring near camp and Mom would very quickly use it up for cooking, drinking and washing. I wonder just how many kettles of water were warmed on that woodstove over the years?

An old, enameled wash basin, a bar of soap, a clean towel and the smell of apple blossoms can transport me but to many Memorial Day weekends of old.

It really doesn’t matter what you do on Memorial weekend as long as you do it with family and friends. Some quiet reflection time, some sitting around the campfire time and some time counting our blessings for the freedoms we have, is what the weekend is all about.

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Karen (Rose) Wils is a lifelong north Escanaba resident. Her folksy columns appear weekly in Lifestyles.