Lake Huron to Lake Superior

I thought Lake Huron was a great lake.  And it is.  But Lake Superior was even greater.  We camped in Lake Superior Provincial Park in a site within a stone’s throw of the Lake (a stone thrown by a professional baseball pitcher, but still…this was our view:

After Eric and the kids went to sleep I worked on the chapter I’m writing by firelight with the stars shining through a skylight of fir tops. 

In the morning the kids built tiny kingdoms with the multicolored pebbles on the lakeshore.

 I went for a swim.  Was that ever great.  The water is so clear and the waves so regular and gentle that you can see straight through to the bottom even quite far out (which is lovely and terrifying at the same time – would you rather see Jaws coming from a mile away or swim in blissful murk until that last toothy moment?).  I swam along the shoreline so I could watch the kids.  When I turned back I found a highway of bubbles from my first pass.  I swam back and forth for a while weaving a trellis of bubbles on the lake’s surface.  Going down under for a closer look at the undulations of sand I found my shadow miming my strokes on the bottom of the lake.  I could hear the bubbles effervescing from my hair.  I’ve never felt more like a mermaid.  Or a can of Coke.

Kai and I lay down on the warm pebbles to dry off and warm up and watch Liam at work on the castles.  When we left, I turned to look back at the lake and the bubbles were there still, shining in the sunlight beyond the stone kingdom.

-Juliet