This month the earth here in the U.P. has been parched. The languid air seethed in the balsams and the lake as if taking human form appeared almost listless. The woods were only a spark away from a potential disaster as there had been little moisture for weeks.
On Saturday we had a series of thunderstorms which drenched the fecund soil, sending wafts of forest smells into the air. The local robins sang with joy as worms worked their way to the surface and made for easy pickings for the hungry birds.
We took our first swim of the season on Saturday. The water was cool but refreshing. The lake has a peat bottom which turns off many city folk but we find it to be a pleasant swim. Our lake has only 7 cabins and for the size of the lake there are not many summer tourists. Most of the time we have the lake to ourselves, except of course, opening day of walleye season. On opening day the locals drag the bottom with various crawler harnesses and the faithful Rapala lure. After opening day the lake is rarely fished. We keep an old flat bottom pram ditched on shore. It leaks but only slightly, so we ignore the puddle in the bottom of her and fish late in the evening. Walleye are spooky fish and often don’t bite when it is light out. The pram lets us get close to shore, and we weave in and out of the weeds like the Great Blue Herons looking for an easy meal.
As I write this, the clouds are parting and the gentle breeze is tempting the surface lof the lake like a lover caressing his partner. We are cooking out to night and I look forward to the sizzle of a steak on the grill and the delight of fresh sweet corn.
I hope your Memorial Day weekend is filled with friends, family and good beer.
Till next week.
Hilton Everett Moore