Snared

The clouds look they are trying to dive into the Lake, but something has caught them before they can take the plunge. Also, lake freighter in center top photo. From 5/30/12.

Trifecta

Look! A line of fluffy clouds on top, a lake freighter to the left, and sparkly sunshine to the right. It's a LakeMichiblog trifecta of lake-faring fabulousness. From Monday, 3/5/12.

Note the Boat

 This sky is pretty impressive.

But note that there is a boat out there on the horizon, too.

T'was the witch of November come stealin'

36 Years Ago Today. Informative links at this earlier post.

The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald
By Gordon Lightfoot

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called 'Gitche Gumee'
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty.
That good ship and crew was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early.

The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and good captain well seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that night when the ship's bell rang
Could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'?

The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too,
T'was the witch of November come stealin'.
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the Gales of November came slashin'.
When afternoon came it was freezin' rain
In the face of a hurricane west wind.

When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck sayin'.
Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya.
At Seven P.M. a main hatchway caved in, he said
Fellas, it's been good t'know ya
The captain wired in he had water comin' in
And the good ship and crew was in peril.
And later that night when his lights went outta sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Does any one know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
If they'd put fifteen more miles behind her.
They might have split up or they might have capsized;
May have broke deep and took water.
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters.

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice-water mansion.
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams;
The islands and bays are for sportsmen.
And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her,
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the Gales of November remembered.

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed,
In the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral.
The church bell chimed till it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call 'Gitche Gumee'.
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early!

Ketchup

So far behind.  I just need to post these and get on with my life, no cute captions this time.

 What an incredible place to live and work. Wow.

Backblogging: Dusk Collection

These were all taken from my new camera phone, and downloaded in a batch without dates. I do know they are all from July 2011. That's the best I can do. Pretty, huh?

A Great and Famous Lake

Lake Michigan (the Eastern Shore) is featured in the wildly popular "The View from Your Window Contest" on Andrew Sullivan's The Dish blog.

Do you recognize this place? Click through for the answer!

More Signs of Spring

The nearly-empty boatslips are slowly filling, weekend by weekend.

Sparkly, sunny water.
Looking south. From Saturday, 4/23/11.
William Shakespeare's Birthday.

"Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May."

I hope you are right, old dude, I hope you are right.

Billy Bishop and the Maple Reindeer

Wouldn't that make an awesome childrens book title? When I saw this truck (in the background) that is what I thought it said: "Maple Reindeers" when in fact, it says "Maple Reinders." I cannot be the only one who has made this error. And I personally think that Maple Reindeer should be the symbol the next time Canada hosts the Winter Olympics.
Anyway, this is the view from Billy Bishop Island Airport, the photo taken just a few hundred yards from the shoreline. Super cool way to get to another amazing Great Lakes city.

Trawling

This probably isn't a trawler, or trawling, but I like that word a lot.
And here's why he was out early on a Monday morning. Lovely Indian Summer weather we've been having.

Lake and Leisure

I rode my bike to the office on Sunday, and there were hundreds of boats enjoying one of the last warm weekends on the lake. Here are a few.

My Ships Have Come In

Tall ships visiting our humble harbor.
Looking out to sea (Lake).
Or, almost. Channel was too shallow for this ship to come in.

Ghost Boat

This looks like an apparition. The setting sun made it luminous.

Beachy Keen

This is a catchall post from the last month. Sorry I haven't posted, but I have enjoyed the Lake.

Lovely beach scene.
This is the "Dragonfly Ballet"--lots of dragonflies meeting in the air, eating bugs and mating (?).
Nice clouds!

Hazy Horizon

From this morning, 7/9/10.

Picture Perfect Saturday

Saturday was a perfect day. Here's one of the beaches, filled with happy bathers (that's the pier, in front).
Look at the color of that water.
That's a pleasure boat, in every sense of the term (if you click twice on the picture, you can read its name, which is KNOT to Worry).
Later in the evening, another beach, taken from the bikepath. Just after this, we passed the marina, filled with boats and people spending their first weekend on the Lake. And a family of ducks, mommy carefully shepherding a crew of babies between the boatslips. This weekend has been one of those when I can't believe how lucky I am to be living here, right on the shore of this stunning natural wonder. All from Saturday, 5/29/10.

Colorful Stripes

The white dots are sailboats (click to enlarge).
I love the textures and colors in this one. From Friday, 5/14/10.

Gunmetal

This looked more gray in person. There's a boat out there--that little white dot. From Monday, 4/19/10.

Nevermore!

Should I be worried to have seen this outside my window today? Or does the fact that it is April 1 (and that's not a raven) mean I'm immune?
Sunny sparkly spring morning.
A few hours later, and the boats were out, and lots of parasailors, too.

Ruins* of her ice water mansion

Today is the 34th anniversary of the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald. I chronicled it last year in this post. This summer I bought a children's book on the tragedy, pictured above. I read it last night to my 5-year-old, and he begged me to stop before the end, because it made him so sad.

*Or rooms? I've seen different versions. I think rooms makes more sense, but ruins works too.

Here's the video of the famous song:


And the lyrics:

The Wreck of the Edmund
Fitzgerald
by Gordon Lightfoot

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy.

With a load of iron ore - 26,000 tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty
That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early

The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go it was bigger than most
With a crew and the Captain well seasoned.

Concluding some terms with a couple of steel
firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that night when the ships bell rang
Could it be the North Wind they'd been feeling.

The wind in the wires made a tattletale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the Captain did, too,
T'was the witch of November come stealing.

The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the gales of November came slashing
When afternoon came it was freezing rain
In the face of a hurricane West Wind

When supper time came the old cook came on deck
Saying fellows it's too rough to feed ya
At 7PM a main hatchway caved in
He said fellas it's been good to know ya.

The Captain wired in he had water coming in
And the good ship and crew was in peril
And later that night when his lights went out of
sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Does anyone know where the love of God goes
When the words turn the minutes to hours
The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish
Bay
If they'd fifteen more miles behind her.

They might have split up or they might have
capsized
They may have broke deep and took water
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters.

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the ruins of her ice water mansion
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams,
The islands and bays are for sportsmen.

And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November remembered.

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed
In the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral
The church bell chimed, 'til it rang 29 times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee
Superior, they say, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early.
© 1976 Moose Music, Inc.