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• In Search of our Ancestors    • New Arrivals
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Previous Years of the Pasty Cam ^{Printed on Recycled Internet}

Good morning, everyone. What a beautiful, blustery Sunday morning it is here on the dune. The lake effect clouds over Lake Michigan were all lit with oranges and pinks from the sunrise in the east. Have a great day!

Cool today, but warm enough to go fishing, a balm for the harried soul, a retreat from the worlds of commerce, football, and POLITICS.

Congratulations to a game well played by the Lions! Matthew Stafford and Calvin Johnson along with many other Lions, played a great game. They lost but they are definitely not losers!

The sun is shining and tomorrow is a promise of Indian Summer.

Indian Summer by Henry Van Dyke
A soft veil dims the tender skies,
And half conceals from pensive eyes
The bronzing tokens of the fall;
A calmness broods upon the hills,
And summer's parting dream distills
A charm of silence over all.

The stacks of corn, in brown array,
Stand waiting through the placid day,
Like tattered wigwams on the plain;
The tribes that find a shelter there
Are phantom peoples, forms of air,
And ghosts of vanished joy and pain.

At evening when the crimson crest
Of sunset passes down the West,
I hear the whispering host returning;
On far-off fields, by elm and oak,
I see the lights, I smell the smoke,--
The Camp-fires of the Past are burning.