Some of the time, looking at the streaks of red in rocks in the northern part of Minnesota, I feel stronger. Popeye downs a can of spinach; Minnesotans can stand on the rocky outposts of the Iron Range.
Sometimes I get anemic enough to need iron delivered by IV. I always know I’m in that state because simple things start to feel really hard. For example: I can stand at the bottom of the stairs with a laundry basket and wonder how I will ever get to the top. The basket feels impossibly heavy, and that top step seems impossibly far away.
So I’m thankful for the iron in the rocks along the banks of Lake Superior – the rocks are sturdy and safe and strong – and for me, in so many senses – life-giving.