Carrie Miller
North Woods, Minnesota

The gateway to Minnesota’s North Woods is guarded by a string of small towns. As the lakes become larger, town populations begin to thin out, and most residents own three vehicles: a pickup truck, a boat, and a snowmobile.

There is a time of day here—early evening, just before the huge sunset takes over the sky—when your soul overflows. Lazy bodies stretch in the remaining sunlight, tired from a day of playing in the cold, clear water. The wind dies down, bending only the tops of the graceful trees, and loons call for each other with long, mournful wails. The air smells of pine, neighboring campfires, and the rich, cloying smell of water.

In spring, we wait for the afternoon thunderstorms that bruise the sky and force us inside. Fall is crisp and golden, tasting of Halloween and county fairs. The horses’ prewinter coats fluff up like velvet, and we all live a little harder knowing winter is on its way. And even in winter, we spend those early evenings enjoying the snap of cold and the thick, soft snow. There is nothing so silent and peaceful as a Minnesota winter.

In those northern towns, there is so much life and passing beauty in the seasons that you can’t help surrendering to it. You feel as though you’re part of that breathing forest, and the only thing you have to do that day is live.

Carrie Miller is an associate researcher at TRAVELER.