THE TALKING LAKES
Today was another day of driving Home Delivered Meals, and one of those days that let me know why I do this... the back roads were lovely... still cold enough to keep them from becoming muddy and full of ruts that cause my car to bottom out... which will force me to use the closest main roads... no shortcuts then. But today the weather was turning into spring. The birds were singing. I could feel it in the warm sunshine which permeated the still cold air with promise of warmer days to come. When I got to my customers' place on Hart Lake, and aide who arrives just before noon was pulling into their driveway next to my car. We walked the long walkway to their house together, and she commented on how they must have their TV on quite loud. I could hear that distant murmuring also, but knew what it was... the lake. The lake above our property was talking several weeks ago when we had a short warm spell. The aide and I stopped to listen. It did sound like some low voice on a distant radio or TV set. But it was definitely the lake.
When I got to the next place--an elderly woman's whose house is also by a lake--a smaller and different one--I asked the son, whose turn it was to be was there for her, if the lake "talks" to them this time of year. "Yes it does," he said. "I know what you mean--when the ice begins to break up."
The first time I heard it was on Cranberry Lake while the dogs and I were walking on it, and it was a little worrisome to hear the ice doing something almost noisy while walking on it. I knew it was safe, as the ice fishermen had been fishing just days before, and have fished on it since. I don't think it's safe now, after the weather got up to the 60s last week, then after tricking us into thinking spring was here, slipped back into winter mode again. But that time I first heard the murmuring we almost felt its vibrations under our feet and paws. It was a bit nerve-wracking, so we padded to shore quite quickly. The dogs were more interested in life in the underbrush on terra firma anyway.
Once on land, I thought about the thrill of the mumbling lake. And then to hear it again today was just as thrilling. Once home again I walked up to Cranberry Lake , but the lake wasn't talking. Maybe it has to be around noon time for the lake to respond to the warmth of the sun, causing uneven expansions and contractions of it's surface and ice strata underneath. I took pictures of all the expansion marks that earlier day, like scars from its "skin of ice" having to put up with climate changes, but it was hard to tell what those pictures were. I'm going to include a picture I took up there today ...including my Polly, and a lovely mossy area that overlooks the lake. You can see a clear expansion crack down the center of the lake which happened when there was below zero weather in the heart of winter and the whole lake agreed that it needed room, and shrugged it's shoulders and took a deep breath... I wish I heard the great KA-BOOM that would have resulted.
I could hear something only once today... like distant thunder... and it must have been the lake, but the murmuring is different. It's like you strain your ears to try to make out the distant words of men talking over a fire at a cold camp-out or while ice fishing... but the lake is empty, and the campfires have been out since the summer people left their cabins and for the winter.
When I begin to understand the words emanating from the murmuring ice... well, my kids will want me committed.
[You'll have to click on the picture... at least I did after I published it and it enlarged on screen... as you cannot see the crack on the ice when you look beyond Polly the trees.]
Today was another day of driving Home Delivered Meals, and one of those days that let me know why I do this... the back roads were lovely... still cold enough to keep them from becoming muddy and full of ruts that cause my car to bottom out... which will force me to use the closest main roads... no shortcuts then. But today the weather was turning into spring. The birds were singing. I could feel it in the warm sunshine which permeated the still cold air with promise of warmer days to come. When I got to my customers' place on Hart Lake, and aide who arrives just before noon was pulling into their driveway next to my car. We walked the long walkway to their house together, and she commented on how they must have their TV on quite loud. I could hear that distant murmuring also, but knew what it was... the lake. The lake above our property was talking several weeks ago when we had a short warm spell. The aide and I stopped to listen. It did sound like some low voice on a distant radio or TV set. But it was definitely the lake.
When I got to the next place--an elderly woman's whose house is also by a lake--a smaller and different one--I asked the son, whose turn it was to be was there for her, if the lake "talks" to them this time of year. "Yes it does," he said. "I know what you mean--when the ice begins to break up."
The first time I heard it was on Cranberry Lake while the dogs and I were walking on it, and it was a little worrisome to hear the ice doing something almost noisy while walking on it. I knew it was safe, as the ice fishermen had been fishing just days before, and have fished on it since. I don't think it's safe now, after the weather got up to the 60s last week, then after tricking us into thinking spring was here, slipped back into winter mode again. But that time I first heard the murmuring we almost felt its vibrations under our feet and paws. It was a bit nerve-wracking, so we padded to shore quite quickly. The dogs were more interested in life in the underbrush on terra firma anyway.
Once on land, I thought about the thrill of the mumbling lake. And then to hear it again today was just as thrilling. Once home again I walked up to Cranberry Lake , but the lake wasn't talking. Maybe it has to be around noon time for the lake to respond to the warmth of the sun, causing uneven expansions and contractions of it's surface and ice strata underneath. I took pictures of all the expansion marks that earlier day, like scars from its "skin of ice" having to put up with climate changes, but it was hard to tell what those pictures were. I'm going to include a picture I took up there today ...including my Polly, and a lovely mossy area that overlooks the lake. You can see a clear expansion crack down the center of the lake which happened when there was below zero weather in the heart of winter and the whole lake agreed that it needed room, and shrugged it's shoulders and took a deep breath... I wish I heard the great KA-BOOM that would have resulted.
I could hear something only once today... like distant thunder... and it must have been the lake, but the murmuring is different. It's like you strain your ears to try to make out the distant words of men talking over a fire at a cold camp-out or while ice fishing... but the lake is empty, and the campfires have been out since the summer people left their cabins and for the winter.
When I begin to understand the words emanating from the murmuring ice... well, my kids will want me committed.
[You'll have to click on the picture... at least I did after I published it and it enlarged on screen... as you cannot see the crack on the ice when you look beyond Polly the trees.]
posted by Cranberry Jo @ 3/13/2009 07:25:00 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home