I’m in Grand Marais, and it is just that–grand.
It is grand to stand at the edge of the world, and almost disappear into the immensity.
It is grand to be reminded how impossibly small I am.
I get up in the morning and look out at that inland sea, and think here I am—maybe I can write a few words.
And I do.
The words are small and I am small, and it all makes me feel grand.

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