In the height of midsummer, I visited the northern woodlands of Wisconsin for the first time. It’s a gorgeous season in which to experience it. Flickers of sunlight sparkle across the rippling blue waters of the lake, as waves crest gently upon shorelines of smooth white stone. Billowing sails of boats drift leisurely along the distant horizon. Dense clusters of cedar trees tower above, with swooping boughs and draping evergreen leaves. The scent of cedar wood hangs in the summer air, as emerald moss and wild ferns blanket the ground underfoot. Delicate purple wildflowers cling to the rocky terrain, entangling the forest floor. It’s a place that feels almost primordial--ancient, and sacred in the magnificence of its wilderness.