“They’re usually half frozen.” Dad says as we stroll toward the channel. “By the time it’s whitefish season we’ve usually got snow and maybe even some ice.” But there’s no snow and ice yet this year. Unseasonably mild weather has the fishermen out in sweatshirts and hats, instead of bundled in layers of long underwear, giant weatherproof boots and balaclavas. They are congregating along the channel, all blustering and blowing with fish stories and good natured ribbing and talk of the best lures and you lost how many last week? A lady on the dock mellows the language a bit but they keep on casting, there’s a big one waiting out there, you know.

                

I pull out my camera, it’s a hazy afternoon but the marvel of Lake Michigan is rarely lost to uncooperative weather or lack of light. It’s still Lake Michigan, with miles of sandy beaches and fresh water as far as the eye can see. We stand along the channel that connects this miraculous body of water to Muskegon Lake where city residents have long enjoyed pretty views and exceptional boating.

                            

Born here, raised here, and always coming back here, my appreciation for this city is ever growing. I’ve told so many people that my being born here is just more proof that God really knows what he’s doing. I love the four seasons, all of them, and by the time I’ve tired of one, another is rounding the corner. And this city, born of a trade long past, still steeped in the history the lumber barons left behind, littered with architectural gems and all sport freshwater lakes at every turn. It’s a hidden wonder, with warm people and tasty treats at local restaurants founded in good old fashioned Michigan creativity. It’s been tough here, like everywhere in our state, but unique challenges have buffered the fortitude of the lakeside community. Many who started their lives here will tell you a different tale of Muskegon, they’re bored here, and disillusioned with the issues that plague a city struggling with lost industries and a downtown fighting to make it back after extensive urban sprawl.

But for every disparaging soul, you can find two whose eyes light up when they brag of the long, clean sandy beach that’s still free, the restored theater downtown, the new projects and rebuilding evident where the cobblestones still hide under the pavement. They mention the landmarks: nautical, military and historical that beg to be seen - The Silversides, the LST, the Hackley and Hume homes among others. There’s new culinary institute downtown and one of my first loves, the Frauenthaul along with new exhibits at the museums. They’ll tell you of the innovative cuisine of a long-time favorite, the Hearthstone and how G&L chili dogs will serve you and have you out the door faster than you ordered. They speak of reasonable taxes and property values and schools that make them proud like during last year’s high school football finals where this area sent so many schools the commentators called it the Muskegon Invitational. Their eyes cloud when they discuss the challenges of a town unemployed, and crime and neighborhoods battling to be desirable again, but they speak in tones of hope. They are inspired by what happens here, by what could happen here, by sheer amazement at the natural wonder of their town along the shore.

I might not live here, but I leave a part of my heart here every time I go, and every time I come back, I round the corner to see the wonder of Lake Michigan splayed out before me in all her glory and it never ceases to take my breath away. I’m grateful to come from a family that opened my eyes to see, and my heart to experience the wonder of this place. I’m grateful I get to come here and be a part of this, to walk the beach and see the shows and stand on the decks. I’m grateful that I have a hometown I can be proud of, I can enjoy, and I can tell you that this is where I come from.