Hilltop

TRAVERSE CITY, Mich. – It sits atop a wind-buffeted hill, nestled between tall pines to the north and a handsome horse farm to the south.  On its west, more pines.  And to the east, a split-rail fence that skirts the top of a grassy bluff.   Down below: Five Mile Road.

Hilltop ... and its north-facing deck.

It’s 2525 Five Mile Road, to be Google-Earth perfect.  But I’ve come to call the place Hilltop.  I’ve never named our houses before, but this time I feel the need. 

I think of my grandparents’ farm in Missouri, grandly called Hill Haven.  It was a fitting description; it was a haven – heaven – atop a hill.

I think of the Michigan cottage, lovingly christened WindSong … a simple structure blessed with the complex mix of wind and waves, musical chimes hanging on strings, the hum of hummingbirds, the soft quacks and honks of distant fowl.

The woods and fire pit to the north.

And this place … well, Hilltop fits.  Because the house does sit high.  The hill is not giant.  The gravel drive seems of modest angle, although our realtor warned us twice that its height will turn mountainous come the snows.

But to be on its front porch, you feel high up. Because from there you can experience the clear essence of this northwest corner of Michigan: feel breezes off the bay, smell the thick tree scent, see the cool shadows below and the stark, azure skies above.

Assuming all goes as planned, we will soon own Hilltop …well, as much as anyone with a mortgage can own a house.

And certainly it’s a modest house compared to our Kansas home.  About half the size.  A living room, kitchen and dining nook downstairs. Three bedrooms and a sitting room upstairs.  That’s it.

Our garage ... and horses behind.

Oh, there’s a free-standing garage, which is modern and large.  The back fourth could be used for storage. But the house has no basement or attic.

So we’ll be shedding possessions as we make the move north.

But Hilltop is a welcoming place.  Sturdily built, its two sets of double doors beckon you inside from the north deck.  And the thick stand of pines and steady winds beckon you back out. 

Cooling shadows in summer.

The house is just minutes from downtown Traverse and the Michigan bay of the same name.  And yet it seems in the country.  The pines help, as do the horses behind the house.

We speculate on how Nellie and Linus will react to the beasts.  We think Nel will remain calm, since that’s her disposition.  I picture her sitting in the back yard, eyeing the horses intently as their muscled necks bend to munch grass. If she’s a true Pyr, she’ll soon claim responsibility for the herd, her alert eyes turning to the landscape in search of predators.

It’s a long and complicated story of how and why Cindy and I decided to pull up our Kansas roots   For starters, I’m blessed with a company that’s allowing me to keep my same job, and all of its responsibilities, but manage things from afar.

Five Mile Road is below.

We’ve also made no secret of our love for this northern region.  Indeed, it didn’t strike me as to how much we’d let this love invade our Kansas lives until I looked as a buyer would at our current home’s interior. 

Walk through the rooms and hallways … a Michigan map adorns the wall here, an artist’s depiction of beachcombing brightens a room there, an antique letter rack from the old Glen Arbor, Mich., post office anchors the living room’s east end.  Above our bed: daughter Meghan’s rendering of the narrows of Glen Lake.  By the front door, on one side, miniature quilts by a Suttons Bay artist depicting a northern woods’ four seasons; on the other side, framed artwork of a cherry orchard.

If a psychologist could ramble through the house’s halls, he’d ask the obvious question, pointing at the map: “Why in God’s name are you living in Kansas and not there?”

Why indeed.

And so, soon, we won’t be.  We’ll leave behind many amazing friends and a house that we’ve dearly loved. (We’re inviting those friends to come visit, and we promise to return to visit as well.)

Meghan, meanwhile, has started her new job in Houston; she and husband Eric will soon move into their new home.  And son Zach has landed a job with K-State in Manhattan after graduation. 

So to the degree that twenty-somethings can settle, they’ve settled.

Soon they will be Nellie's to watch.

Meanwhile, we feel an urgency.  Time moves ever faster, it seems, and to take full advantage of the aesthetic and recreational pursuits of a place like Traverse City, we must act now … before the twinges of age take their inevitable toll.

Already we’re talking about buying new bikes, paddling kayaks down Boardman River, hiking sun-speckled, sandy trails. Heck, there’s even serious talk of joining Weight Watchers to lighten our load.

But the first step was to find a house … a home.

We think we’ve done that.  Now we await the move

Oh ... and Hilltop is but a way-station.  Our goal in two years is to buy or build a lake place. We’ll  take the first year or so to scout out locations. And that will keep the adventure going. 

For while it’s wonderful to be high up to catch the bay breezes, our ultimate haven – heaven – is to be by water’s edge. There the waves will sing their hearty hellos.  And we will join in.