They met on the River—the great Mississippi River—while on the rowing teams at University of St. Thomas. Anne had taken a circuitous route to St. Thomas after being accepted at another school and with other obstacles that reasonably would have steered her away. But something compelled her to pursue it. And to those of us who know her, she is a force. It was there she met her friend Erik who was introduced to us via Facetime when Anne was visiting—by then, more than just a friend. Anne worked at Star Lake wilderness camp with our kids—always ready for an adventure with Nature or with people and preferably with both.

Anne and Erik were married last weekend at a ceremony overlooking Lake Superior in Duluth. They had just returned to Minnesota after a long stint at Berkeley where Erik had gotten his doctorate and Anne had advocated for women in sports—planning and participating in marathons, triathlons, hiking, and most unbelievable to me, she had swum from the island of Alcatraz to the California shore! She is a force!

On our way to Duluth for the weekend, we stopped at Jay Cooke State Park where the tumultuous St. Louis River winds through the Northwoods towards Lake Superior. We crossed the Swinging Bridge—the 5th iteration since the original was built in 1924. Floodwaters have destroyed the bridge numerous times—the Civilian Conservation Corps rebuilt it in 1934 and again in 1940. The last damaging flood occurred in 2012 at the highest level ever recorded, and once again the bridge was restored.

The water was brown with tannins and white-capped with the furious flow over rocks, a raucous rootbeer float of a river. Standing on the Swinging Bridge was exhilarating with the cacophonous water ringing in our ears and flowing under our feet!

Emily and I left the bridge and followed the River trail, a vestige of the canoe portage that had been used by Native Americans, fur traders, explorers, and missionaries for centuries past. The St. Louis River was a critical link between the Mississippi River waterways to the west and Lake Superior and the other Great Lakes to the east. We were walking on history.

And while the River continued to tumble over the rocks on one side of us, the forest brought calm and quiet. In Spring form, as Winter was not long departed from this area, the ferns were just unfurling their ‘fiddleheads.’

Sustaining food for animals and people alike—Wild Strawberries and Blueberries—were blooming and will soon produce fruit.

The water was calmer in areas between the large rock formations that had pooled from the Spring flood waters, but the piles of logs and debris on top of the rocks and even up on our trail were evidence of the power and might of the rushing water.

Delicate beauty that curves on stems of nodding Yellow Trout Lilies and Yellow Lady’s Slippers is sometimes overlooked or unseen on the bustling path of adventure and advancement. Looking closely, one sees the light and the shadow.

The rocks have a billion-years-old story to tell, complete with sand and seas, faults and heaves, volcano lava, and icy glaciers. The tilted rocks are slate and were quarried near this location in the late 1800’s, early 1900’s.

Stripes of a hidden Jack-in-the-Pulpit flower mimic the stripy leaves of the plant behind it—all a story of light and shadow, design and texture.

Following the River can be rough at times and navigating it impossible, but if you keep at it, you find a bridge that is high above the rough waters and will connect the two sides.

Anne and Erik found one another on the Mississippi River and have rowed and flowed with the river ever since. They have already weathered the rough waters of graduate school and cross-country moves, yet they have many more obstacles in front of them. I know they will design an interesting life for themselves, cognizant of the light and the shadows in themselves, one another, and the people surrounding them. May they always remember and be able to count on the family who came before them. May they stop and notice the delicate beauty in one another and in the world around them. May they be nourished by good food, knowledge, great friends, and much love. May they find the bridges necessary to get over the rough waters and to connect with one another. And if a bridge is washed out, rebuild and restore. An old adage advises that if one is lost, find and follow a river. It will bring you back to safety, to people who love you, and to the place you need to be. I think Anne already knew that.