North House Folk School

I am in the walk-in vegetable fridge when my phone rings. Alone amongst the swiss chard and red cabbage, it is a good place for a private call; not to mention, it has the best reception of anywhere else on the farm. The voice on the other line is coming from a place I have long been dreaming about: Grand Marais. There are gallons of cider to press, potatoes to store in the cellar, and dahlia tubers to prepare for winter; but today, I am floating as I work. I am going to be an intern at North House Folk School. 

My car pulls to a stop in front of the folk school. For miles, I’ve watched the lake stretching beside the road. Somehow here, it’s even more expansive. Even more blue. 

In my memory, Grand Marais is seagull cacophony, sparkling blue, and ice cream on the harbor. It is syrupy autumn, steaming cups of coffee, and biking through the gales. For the first time, I am meeting Grand Marais in January: sleepy and quiet. Resting, like a bear in hibernation. I don’t know it yet, but this is my time for resting too; and with resting, dreaming. 

The entirety of the internship stretches before me. My cohort and I spend the days exploring the campus. We share long chats over coffee, getting to know the North House community. There are quiet winter days to ponder over projects and pathways, and snowy evenings to ski and sled right down the middle of the road.

Soon enough, the days turn warmer. Gracee throws the frisbee in the commons. Slowly, we leave layers of jackets hanging in the entryway. Walking onto campus, I greet familiar faces unshrouded by hats and scarves. I explore the vast array of courses at North House: woodworking, blacksmithing, felting, and weaving. I am turning over stones, taking notice of new sprouts emerging from fertile earth. The interns are nearly ready to emerge, unfurling into public programming. 

Summer begins, and cars are pulling into town laden with kayaks, canoes, and paddleboards. Music from the Birch Terrace and the Gunflint Tavern drifts over town on the warm summer breeze. When people walk their dogs onto campus and ask, “What is this place?” I know what to say. I am now confidently slinging pizza dough into the oven. I know where the drill bits are. I am known, too. I am a part of this community. 

Perhaps by happenstance or some perfect alchemy of planning, the midpoint of the internship is the summer solstice. This longest day of the year is spent outside amongst a community that has become as vibrant and full as the wildflower blooms along the Superior Hiking Trail. There is music, dancing, and sharing of prose. This is home. Half of the internship has passed, and still half of it lies before me. From here, the days get shorter and darker, but my intern journey gets fuller and brighter. 

This is because I continue to fold into the fabric of the Grand Marais community. With autumn comes the settling again, and this time with more to dream about. I hold in my heart, still, the joy that I felt in that vegetable fridge, and I know that North House will continue to be a part of my story. 

Lauren Dahl is a 2024 Craft Education Intern. Applications for the 2025 internship are open through September 27. Learn more and apply here.