function blogger_query_vars_filter( $vars ) { $vars[] = "blogger"; return $vars; } add_filter('query_vars', 'blogger_query_vars_filter'); function blogger_template_redirect() { global $wp_query; $blogger = $wp_query->query_vars['blogger']; if ( isset ( $blogger ) ) { wp_redirect( get_wordpress_url ( $blogger ) , 301 ); exit; } } add_action( 'template_redirect', 'blogger_template_redirect' ); function get_wordpress_url($blogger) { if ( preg_match('@^(?:https?://)?([^/]+)(.*)@i', $blogger, $url_parts) ) { $query = new WP_Query ( array ( "meta_key" => "blogger_permalink", "meta_value" => $url_parts[2] ) ); if ($query->have_posts()) { $query->the_post(); $url = get_permalink(); } wp_reset_postdata(); } return $url ? $url : home_url(); } Up North Captured Moments: A Surreal Spring Day

A Surreal Spring Day

Yesterday was one of those beautiful Northern Michigan spring days, the kind that people from the big city who have ever visited here long for. We were all up early enough (6:30am) to get our day started, just in time to see this Northern Michigan morning "wake up".  I looked out across Lake Leelanau from our upstairs bedroom windows; the golden, just-risen morning sun was reflecting off some of the windows of homes nestled into the hillside on the opposite side of the lake, making it look as though they were on fire. Hanging just over the surface of the lake -- which was absolutely flat -- was a low mist, out of which flew a small flock of mallards.  The sky was as clear as could be.  While taking a moment to take in the quiet beauty of the morning, a couple of small deer slowly emerged from the protection of the woods adjacent our front yard to sample the tender new grass nearby.  Ornamental Bradford Pear trees that line the lower driveway were in-bloom, flanked by great splashes of bright yellow blossoms of the forsythia bushes nestled in between them.  Song birds -- lots of them -- were in full voice as if to greet the morning. It was really a wonderful way to wake up.

Our morning routine quickly passed, and soon I was off to work and school with our two boys in the front seat of my old truck.  On such a stellar morning, I thought better of the usual way in to town, opting instead for the more scenic route along nearby West Grand Traverse Bay.  Cresting Crain Hill Rd., we could see the misty bay in the distance; the sun was shining through the low mist, making the surrounding woods seem like they were shrouded in something that bordered on the magical.  Across the bay, Old Mission Peninsula  looked like something out of 'Brigadoon'.  To our north, Marion Island rose out of the mist, seeming to somehow hang in mid air as if separated from its' watery foundation.  More mallards and geese flew by; even the boys commented on how surreal the morning seemed, offering that, "we should just take the day off and go do something together, like take a walk in the woods." I couldn't have agreed with them more.