The Great Lake

"The Greatest of the big lakes, Superior astounded the men who visited it in those early years.  The lake is known for its coldness year round, as well as its clarity.  When Laman visited Superior he watched as boulders passed slowly beneath his canoe.  Curious as to how far down they were, he tied a rag to a line and lowered it into the water.  After reeling out a hundred feet he finally hit bottom, while noting he could still make out 'every fold' in his marker.  Even today, despite all of man's efforts to pollute it, Superior's crystalline waters still surprise visitors."
(Michigan's Columbus: The Life of Douglass Houghton by Steve Lehto, 
Momentum Books-Royal Oak, Mi. 2009)

**This entry is retro...from a family vacation we took exactly two years ago today when we traveled to my Aunt Cherie & Uncle Bob's cabin in Canada, on Lake Superior's North Shore.

     I swam in the water with eyes wide open.  I looked down into the depths as if with a mask, but instead with my naked eyes.  I saw the rocks with their contours. 

Some had distinct, sharp edges at random and unique lengths and angles.  Others were worn smooth by the lapping waves and grinding ice of a year forgotten.  I can see these underwater.  Some are within toes reach.  Some are beyond the touch of my deepest dive.  Some are seen at, or below, that scary zone that exists more in my consciousness than the water itself.  My vision of the rocks beneath me in the water are made more vibrant by the bands of white, red and pink veins running through the speckled gray and white

granite.

The stripes act as beacons or soundings, leading to mysteries yet unknown underwater, underground or beyond the murkiness. 

The temperatures exhilarate in a refreshing way that heightens the senses.  It's cold, oh yes it's cold, especially when you push deep.  Yet, with the warm air and pulsating sun, the water beckons me over and over.  Surprisingly I obey.  It is not surprising that I would obey, but rather that I can, or that the water allows me to.  Typically it shocks the system and freezes your muscles and body into apathy, submission, and forgetfulness.  For some reason at this moment in time there is a chink in the armor of this mighty warrior.  Submersion is by invitation only it seems, but apparently the sword has been lowered, and it is waving me in.  I expect to have to tip-toe, inch by inch over the rocky or sandy bottom, but amazingly I can slip into the embalming liquid with hardly a gasp.  In fact, I run and jump off the rock island "launch pads" to cannonball and dive.  I laugh.  I can't help myself, and find myself partaking again and again.  My son and daughter join me and express the same wonderment and realization.  I yearn, indulge, and love a good baptism in to the Great Lake Superior.
See you along The Way...