The Law of Diminishing Returns

Lori kayaking by an iceberg - Click for larger

I have been coast to coast in Canada many times over the past 20 years. We have travelled in planes, trains, boats and automobiles. We have also travelled in canoes, kayaks and on foot. Some places we have even revisited over the years. Usually the first time is the most exciting. This year, Newfoundland felt like it had lost a bit of its shine. Maybe the bad weather had something to do with my perception. Although I think anyplace would have a difficult time living up to my expectations the second time round if my first visit was spectacular. Our first trip there we kayaked around icebergs and had caribou run past us. We were wide-eyed and smitten.

Caribou Cow and Calf - Click for larger

Ice Floes at La Scie, NL - Click for larger

There are very few places that hold that magic of a first visit. Lake Superior however, has never disappointed me.

Gargantua Rocks - Click for larger

Regardless of the weather, I always enjoy the north shore.

Sandpiper - Click for larger

After braving one of the wettest summers on the east coast in memory, Lori and I loaded up the canoe and headed to Lake Superior Provincial Park. We wanted to enjoy a bit of summer before returning to the daily grind. Waves crashing on the shore was all we could hear. It was so loud, we had to yell to communicate if we were more than 10 feet from each other. It was a little rough for canoeing so we didn’t go far. With little ambition for not much more than reading, swimming, and eating, we somehow filled our day nicely.

Red Sky over Lake Superior - Click for larger

I didn’t pick up the camera much during the week - only if the light was too good to ignore. I did do a little light painting with a big Maglight flashlight. It’s always fun to play and just shoot for the joy of it.

Gargantua Rocks - Click for larger

All in all, it was a great summer! Hope you had a good one too.

Gargantua and Other Dreams

Gargantua Bay Sunset - click for larger

Everyday began the same way. Our tent was at the edge of Gargantua Beach on Lake Superior’s northern shore. Thick clouds had rolled in overnight. It looked like a heavy rainstorm was on its way. At 6 a.m. we would get up to relieve our swollen bladders and go back to bed. By 9 a.m. some of the clouds had started to clear. It looked like it could go either way. I would get out and walk naked to the edge of the water. No need to cover up, our closest neighbours were way down the beach and they didn’t usually get up till 11 a.m. anyway. I would go for a swim and stand naked in the sun to warm myself up. The constant sound of the waves hitting the beach was hypnotizing. Every now and then, there would be a loud bang, like someone dropping a big log on the ground. But it was just the way the water would slap the beach sometimes. I would hear voices too, but there was no one there. Even when there was little wind, the waves continued to roll in, probably from a storm on the south side of the lake. By 10 a.m. the clouds would clear along with our ambition to go anywhere. We would swim and laze in the sun reading. The day would pass at its own pace and we would be in a trance looking at the water, waves, sand and rocks. Dinner and wine, often while sitting on the beach, followed by a swim followed by a game of cards is how we would spend the last bit of light. We would then gather our books and head to bed. The sound of the waves blocked every other sound. Sleep came easy. Deep, undisturbed sleep is such an unusual occurrence for me these days. My dreams were lucid and in Technicolor. It was as if I watched a movie every night - as if I was slipped a mild sedative along with a hallucinogenic substance. What were the men in the New York Subway trying to tell me in sign language? Why was the security guard drunk at 3 am and where was he taking me? Why didn’t the bullets hurt or even make a dent? Dreams. Wonderful Technicolor dreams. I would awaken the next morning to the sound of the waves and repeat the whole thing over again. It was simply intoxicating!

Superior has not revealed herself fully to me yet. Maybe she never will. Still I continue to hear her call.

Michipicoten Bay Panoramic - click for larger

Dawn on Michipicoten Bay - click for larger