The Minnesotans where we stayed told us many times that the lake was unusually smooth, so I guess it was. But I guess these fishermen (fisherpersons?) were happy about it.
(Also, that skinny strip of land in the background is Wisconsin. I knew you were wondering.)
Lake Superior – Brighton Beach
near Duluth, Minnesota
I feel good when I can see all the way to the edge, to that long and flat horizon. Those of you who live where there are hills and trees surely think I am deranged, but I don’t have any apologies.
I’ve not always been able to recognize or admit to my love of this flat place. It stated to change one summer night when we were staying in a cabin in the Colorado Rockies. A storm came up, with lots of thunder and lightning; usually storms like that are exciting, but this night I was edgy and restless and paced around the cabin until the last echos of thunder had faded. Later – several years later, because sometimes I am really slow about stuff – I began to understand the storm made me nervous because I wasn’t able to see where it was in relation to where I was. The so-called scenery was blocking my view! As you can imagine by looking at the photo, we can see a storm from miles and miles away: there’s comfort in that.
(Of course, with land this flat, there’s a whole genre of “it’s so flat that…” jokes, most of which are just as funny as you’d think. The only one I really like is “it’s so flat that if you stare long enough at the horizon, you can see the back of your head.”)
Hale County, Texas
I suppose there is a good reason for a field of yucca to flourish, when all the surrounding spots are largely yucca-free. It’s just that I don’t know what it is.
(Here’s what I DO know: pants and/or snake boots would have been a less scratchy option than my skort-and-Converse outfit.) (And on a completely unrelated note, does anyone know where I could purchase snake boots?)
House, New Mexico
Out here where I live, on the Texas High Plains, I can always see the horizon. (Unless the dust is blowing, but that’s a whole different story.) When I travel to places where the horizon is obscured by silly things like hills or trees, I start to get a little fidgety after a day or so. There’s something about that flat line, way out there, that calms me down.
Oceans are good, with their non-broken horizons.
But then, this silliness happened. I have neither explanations nor apologies. That railing was just right there, and I had a camera, and…
Point Reyes National Seashore