September 20, 2025
There’s a certain magic to the eastern Upper Peninsula when the trees first begin to blush with autumn. The maples flirt with crimson, the birches whisper in gold, and the pines stand steady, as if amused by all the fuss. Along quiet backroads, the air sharpens, crisp, but still carrying a hint of summer’s warmth and each bend seems to reveal a secret: a lighthouse keeping silent watch, a hidden cove bright with reflection, a ribbon of highway running through a living watercolor. It’s a place where time loosens its grip, where you can wander between Lake Superior’s restless waves and the hushed trails of cedar and tamarack, caught in the playful pause between seasons.