From Great Lakes to Green Valleys

I grew up walking on golden beaches, marveling at lakes so vast they looked like oceans.

These majestic, freshwater Great Lakes were always cold. Even in June, you’d feel a sharp chill running into the waves. My elementary school field trips to the bay felt more like Polar Bear Plunges than summer outings, but we were used to it. Michigan was a wonderful, rugged place to be a kid.

Trading Crashing Waves for the Ozarks

When I entered my teens, my family moved to Missouri. It felt like I was being pulled into the pages of Tom Sawyer.

I traded crashing waves for impressive rivers, historic steamboats, and the rugged foothills of the Ozarks. My particular corner of Missouri is a patchwork of lovely fishing lakes, dedicated parks, and limestone cliffs. It’s a place where the trees herald spring with a riot of redbuds, tulip trees, and pear blossoms.

Missouri eventually became my permanent home base in a city called Lee's Summit. This sprawling suburb of Kansas City became my "adopted hometown." It’s where I went to school, where I’ve worked, and where I’ve built my life.

The Contrast of Two Worlds

Even though these two states share the "Midwest" label, they have entirely different colors and textures. One is deep blue with fine-grained sand; the other is forest green with earthy limestone. Both have shaped who I am and how I see things.

This logbook—and the creative work I share at Water's Edge Poetry—is a tribute to the beauty and power of both the Great Lakes and the Missouri rivers. Whether you live near windblown white caps or a quiet rippling creek, I hope these words and images feel like home to you, too.

The waves are waiting. Let’s explore them together.

The Logbook Prompt

⚓ Your thoughts? Have you ever had to move and adapt to a completely new landscape? How does the natural world influence your writing? Let me know in the comments.