October 18, 2015 – Finland, Minnesota

“Watch out for that rock right there.”

It must be midnight or later, and I’m walking through the woods behind Steven and Damean (my host’s “neighbor”).

Without lights.

The complete opposite environment that we just left – a birthday party at a neighbor’s place (down the road, through some forest, down a hill, up a hill….). This wasn’t your typical birthday party, either. No. There was an old-fashioned cauldron hanging above a fire, warming bear fat that was used to cook homemade doughnuts in. Doughnuts that were then shaken in a bag of real Minnesota maple sugar – “the original shake and bake,” as Damean put it jokingly. From another conversation, I overheard someone ask another, “How are the cities?” to which they replied, “Not as good as this doughnut.”

My God, they were delicious.

Steven knows the land so well that he can guide us without using the head lamps they brought. I’m impressed, energized, scared. Scared at first, at least. Then taken aback as I realize how long it had been since I had done anything like that and how serene it felt. The starlight against the fallen leaves provided just enough light to make out the two men ahead of me.

Part of me wanted to just sit and be still.

After the doughnuts, the hosts offered homemade pizza as well as freshly made ice cream. Made. Fresh. By hand. Two men sat near the fire and played/sang songs featuring a banjo and violin for what must have been over an hour. Are all northern Minnesota birthday parties this incredible?

Steven stops us amidst our return home and turns on his light. He is searching for a knee-high tree along the road that he showed us on the way to the party. He mentioned that he wanted to try to transplant it at his home. The light reveals nothing. Until he turns to his left; there the tree sits, only a few feet away from his initial guess in the dark. Mind blown. Upon arriving home, we three take a moment to observe the stars, noting any recognizable constellations. We end the night with a brief conversation.

Which is also how the party drew to a close – a conversation around a camp-style fire. I mostly just listened and observed, as I tend to do around new groups of people. I don’t recall all of the topics covered, save the discussion about city versus country life. The same girl who made the city v. doughnut jab described her feelings on the matter: “Every time I’m in a city, I feel like I’m dying.”

After experiencing an evening like that, I find it hard to disagree with her.

“Country things are the necessary root of our life – and that remains true even of a rootless and tragically urban civilization. To live permanently away from the country is a form of slow death.” – Esther Meynell