The quiet time is here. Winter has staked its claim and the lake is trying to sleep. The busyness of summer is just a passage in last year’s journal.
One of the most noticeable effects of this sleepy time is the lack of traffic on the highway. The scrape from snow plows and the rush of transports is there, but missing are the dozens of canoehead cars and skinny wheeled bicycles. The world loves the north but most people can only venture there in the warmer, safe-to-travel days.
For folks who live in the north, in small rural communities or in hamlets along the lake, this change in space is a familiar one. However, the absence of people does not diminish the fact that where they live is important. Take, for example, the plight of tired workers who sit in front of a computer all day. To keep their minds fresh, they often flip to photos of their favourite haunts along Lake Superior.
Lake Superior has pulled in people from all over the world. Over the years we have been lucky enough to meet quite a few. I remember with a smile, and awe, some of the first visitors to our place. Some years ago, Tzanka, a small troop of dancers from Russia on a cross Canada tour stopped here in Montreal River to perform at the local school. They brought an energetic musical part of the planet right to the front door. Some of the more recent visitors have been cyclists. They are the adventurous souls who brave the gravelly shoulders on the Trans Canada to grind their way up, or zip their way down, the Montreal River Hill. They add a unique verve and voice to the shore. Today, in 2014, the love and life in Superior’s eastern shore has an even broader base. Social media has umped the ante. A visit to the lake and Lake Superior Park is on a multitude of sites.
While summer is the most popular time to see the lake, winter offers unique and often startling views and contemplations. The variety of light, form and colour is unbelievable. Some sunset evenings the light dances off the lake with a pink, red and gold radiance that fills the entire sky. Some sunny days crystals of snow are flakes of silver. One morning ice patterns are swirls and squiggles on a smooth flat surface. The next day rolling plates of pack ice resemble the scales of a dragon. The scene never stops giving and changing.
Often, insight from the lake can be quite unexpected. One winter, during a year when the winds were calmer, the lake froze smooth and solid enough to ski on in places. We went to Sinclair Cove in Lake Superior Park and skied about a kilometer south to the pictographs on the cliff face of Agawa Rock. There, the ancient ochre coloured paintings that depict lake travels and lake creatures are a draw for thousands.
It was a gorgeous sunny day and all of us were taken away by the beauty and fun of our icy excursion. We skied to look at the paintings and then went further out onto the lake. At about 50 metres from shore I started to notice how the sounds were different. Laughter from our group echoed off the cliff walls. In a quiet moment I whispered. It was a shock to hear my soft whisper return to me louder than I sent it. And from so far away.
The lake does have a million voices and faces that influence the world. A global network of people share and enjoy this beauty, a beauty that puts us in the moment, a moment that reminds us to breathe and remember what is important.