Oceans, Sacred and Wild

All sound is drowned out by the constant crash of the surf against the rocky shore. Looking out upon the waters one sees a vast canvas of the sea, set about with whitecaps. It is perpetual motion; an undulating expanse as wave after wave driven by wind and tide press ever onward. An island, lush with trees lit with the fires of autumn sits like a sentinel on the horizon, nameless, uninhabited, a touchstone against the backdrop of the ever-shifting waters. As I watch, the sun, unseen on the land, paints the water with an even more vibrant shade of aquamarine. There is a chill in the air but the rays upon the water gives the impression of a hot, shimmering summer’s day. This is Lake Huron.

I will admit that from my land-locked home, I often forget the grandeur and vastness of the four great seas that surround me (other states lay claim to Ontario). I see them rarely, most often catching a passing glance at southern Erie as we drive through downtown Cleveland. How little I regard these majestic giants. Looking out upon the face of any of the Great Lakes one would be hard-pressed to differentiate them from an ocean save the lack of the briny tang in the air. One can only imagine the thoughts of those courageous explorers as they stood on their yet undiscovered shores, or set sail on their unplumbed depths. I’m sure that many, upon hearing the great clash of waters from a distance, became convinced that they had reached the farthest extreme of this new world.

We struggle to appreciate our mighty neighbors these days. How can they compare to the length and breadth of the seven seas upon which the world’s commerce is borne and under which the lightless depths hold incalculable mysteries? We know so much these days (too much perhaps). We can see on a map or from a satellite the farthest extremes of the world. We can compare the lakes surrounding us with the great seas of Northern Europe or the gulfs of the southern hemisphere. We learn the mileage and volume and surface area. But do we comprehend? With our vast stores of information can we come to a place of understanding the size and scope? We lose sight of the enormity of life inhabiting a single cove in the grand scheme of an entire sea. This affects all areas of our lives but is particularly insulting to our unique borders that bear the stigma of familiarity.

Let us look again, with eyes anew, on our lakes and try to see them not as geographical objects but as vast communities of life; of beauty; crafted by Divine hand to reflect unseen glory.

Michigan: the Hollywood starlet, boasting a metropolis and the golden coast of the elite, whose northern extremes boast nationally recognized wonders. The crystal blue waters and sandy beaches lure millions to its shores every year. Michigan you may be our vacation home but we know you so little. What do we know of the plovers who nest on your shores? Have we witnessed the petulant winds sculpting your dunes? Forgive us if we have taken you as a trinket without truly seeking to grasp your grandeur; without seeking your soul.

Erie: maligned and forgotten. You became to us a commodity to be traded and in so doing we tarnished your gown. We no longer looked at you as a thing of beauty but as a means of transport, a battleground for our wars. You bore the ore that fed our pride. You bore the very means by which we forgot you. Let us see you again as you were; as you can be again, without our reckless stain upon you.

Huron: I confess ignorance of you. You existed in my mind as an emerald enigma and I sought you not. Teach me, if you would, even as I sit upon your rocky shores. Show me how to appreciate your power.

Oh mystery deep and foreboding are you Superior, most ruthless of your siblings. You are to us a foreign world, misty and cold. Your bones run deep and your ancient shores speak of secrets long withheld. We sought to tame you yet you would not be broken. It was we who broke upon your shores and sank beneath your waves. Bitter and alien you seem to us. Let us ponder but a little further if you will allow, that we might see the deep things of the world as you do, fully grasping the profound solemnity.

Ontario you seem to me a far-flung cousin rather than a sibling. Your shores belong to another land; another time. Speak, if you will. We will listen. We will hear your story.

As the sun sets upon the sunrise coast and I shiver in my sleep, let us together pledge to gaze with renewed vigor and openness upon our long forgotten inland seas.