For a wondrous time in my life I lived walking distance to Lake Michigan, at the tip of the long peninsula of Door, close enough to the crossing to Washington Island that we could hear the fog horn of the ferry as it came into dock. And a sky surrounding us so black it seemed velvet, just north of our quiet little village of less than 400 folks (most of the time) that was our address. There was a peace to be found there that comes with remoteness and the proximity to Wisconsin’s only wilderness-designated state park, which also came to be the first in our state designated a “Dark Sky Park”.

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