Flash Of Memory

Cherry pits on the dashboard. Bug spray in my hair. Fireworks stitched across the sky like burning sigils.

That’s Traverse City in July—the place where the lake kisses the horizon and makes you believe in magic. Where tradition hums louder than the grand finale, long after the sparks fade. 🎆

I’ve been going “up north” for the Fourth of July since before my memories had shape. For me, Traverse City isn’t just a place—it’s a ritual. And it all begins with Copemish. 🌲

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The Farmhouse That Built Me

Before hotels, we stayed in my great-grandma’s farmhouse, tucked deep in the Copemish woods. It wasn’t fancy, but it was ours—a little sanctuary carved from trees and time.

When she passed, we shifted next door to a trailer beside the old house—still tethered to where everything began. That farmhouse, layered with generations of laughter and love, has since burned down. But I still feel it:

• The creak of floorboards under bare feet
• Sunlight spilling across the kitchen table like a blessing
• The scent of breakfast while fireworks leftovers glittered in the grass ✨🍳

The house may be ash now, but its spirit lingers, whispering in the bones of memory.

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The Balcony of Belonging

We had a short chapter at the Bayshore Resort with my maternal grandmother, Grams. I still remember the wonder of watching fireworks from that balcony.

It was a gift for a sensory-sensitive kid like me—close enough to feel the magic, far enough to breathe. Grams always made sure I felt safe and seen. That balcony became one of those sacred spaces you keep tucked in your chest, glowing like a candle in the dark.

The Rituals We Carried

Years later, when my mom sold the trailer, my ex-husband and I stayed at the Anchor Inn by the Bay. It wasn’t glamorous (at the time), but we made it ours. We wove our own spells of tradition:

✨ Wandering the National Cherry Festival—hot pavement, sticky fingers, fried dough perfuming the air like incense
💎 Digging through bins at C&M Rock Shop in Honor, convincing ourselves we needed just one more fossil
🎬 Nights at the Cherry Bowl Drive-In, curled up in blankets, equal parts bug spray and starlight
🍽️ Flap Jack Shack breakfasts on our last day—French toast and bacon, always the final charm
🍒 A last stop in Mesick for cherries from the BP lot—bright, red offerings that marked the end of vacation

Tradition was the spell, binding even imperfect summers into something sacred.

When Traverse Became Home

For a brief, golden stretch, Traverse City wasn’t just an escape—it was home.

• A perfect little apartment on the edge of town
• Best friends just down the street
• The Women’s Resource Center gifting me confidence in secondhand treasures
• Cherry Republic salsa as ritual, not just snack
• Spontaneous drives to Fishtown for the North Shore sandwich—messy, salty, worth every bite
• That drive up M-22 to Suttons Bay, pure spellcraft—vineyards, water, sky, like the universe flexing its power 🛣️🌊

Those days strung together like charms on a bracelet—ordinary and enchanted all at once.

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All My Selves in One Place

It’s wild how one place can hold so many versions of you:

• The barefoot kid chasing fireworks
• The teenager hungry for freedom
• The woman trying to build a forever
• The wanderer who keeps returning, even when life casts detours and undoings 🧭

That’s the magic of Traverse City—it’s not just geography. It’s an altar, holding every self I’ve been, reminding me of the cycles I’ve survived.

The Spell I Still Cast

I don’t make it every year anymore—but when July rolls around, I feel the pull like a full moon tugging at the tide. 🌕

Traverse City is still my escape. My memory quilt. My sacred reset. And maybe—if I’m lucky—it’ll become that for my daughters, too. 🧡

So here’s my spell, whispered into the northern wind:

Traverse City, keep my ghosts and my joys. Keep barefoot girls and tired mothers safe in your arms. Keep the cherries sweet, the sky wide, and the Fourth forever stitched with magic.

Thanks for being my forever Fourth. 🎇

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✨ PS: This isn’t the last you’ll see of Traverse City. She’ll be making her official debut in a future Travel Thursday—because some places deserve their own spellbook entry. Stay tuned. 🌊🍒