(Day After Labor Day, Southwest Michigan) ’round here we call the day after Labor Day: St. Fipian’s Day. Why? Because it is a day of rest and relief for that dwindling band of us who live here year-round. The summer folk all flock to our beautiful beaches and wineries and storied towns and designer restaurants and brew pubs and squeeze one last harried hurrah out of summer. And then by dark on Labor Day, they are all headed west on I-94 leaving us to savor the silence. And I do mean silence. Now, don’t get me wrong, we love our summer neighbors. We love the excitement and energy and big bucks they bring to the west coast of Michigan every summer. But they do wear on us after a bit. True confession. So we have this glorious day after Labor Day we call: St. Fipian’s Day. Saint Fipian, so you know, was a simple soul who gave all his worldly possessions to the poor and put on sack cloth and ashes and went and stood on an overpass overlooking the Labor Day migration back to that Friendly Illinois Place, and earnestly prayed that each and every one of his summer neighbors would reach home safely and then stay there at least until the following Memorial Day. So there you have it: St. Fipian’s Day. And we had ourselves as fine a St. Fipian’s Day yesterday as you could possibly imagine by just hopping on our bicycles and riding the no-longer bustling backroads of our home county by the sweet water sea.