Sea Monsters

I live next to Lake Superior, the second largest fresh water lake in the world. Only Lake Baikal in Russia surpasses her -- not in size because Superior is 19,000 sq. miles larger, but in volume. Superior is over 4,000 feet more shallow. These are immense numbers. At the deepest part of Lake Superior, you could submerge the entire Empire State Building. Is it any wonder then that when I look at the lake from my windows vantage point, that I think of it more often as a sea? I cannot see across her vast expanse and her waves can top 20 to 30 feet in big storms. Over 350 large boats lay on her bottom and the seamen who went down with those boats she still holds in her icy cold embrace.

Lurking off our lakeshore property is a monster that was barely visible when we first moved here. It appeared one August afternoon as I took a break from my writing to stroll toward the little knoll that lies to the west of our home. The lake was unusually quiet that day, barely a ripple across her sateen surface. I settled myself onto a fallen birch and enjoyed the warm sun and lake breezes. The unending expanse of blue—water and sky—seemed to free and unfetter me.

I had closed my eyes and was aware only of the rustling of the grasses and the sighing of the breeze through the spruce trees when a sudden swooshing gurgle startled me. I opened my eyes in time to see an immense black shape emerge from the lake fifty feet off shore. Water cascaded off the creature’s back and pooled in silvery waves around its flanks. Then, almost as quickly as it had appeared, the monster dove back under the surface and the lake rushed to cover its hole.

I know that she is just a massive rock but I’ve developed a real fondness for Nessy -- which is what I've named her because of her resemblance to the Loch Ness Monster. Her visits, which were at first sporadic, have become more frequent as the years have passed and six years of extreme drought have lowered the lake's water levels. As a matter of fact she has become a permanent part of my lakeshore view. When she first began to emerge, an eagle found only enough room on her back to rest and survey his fishing options. This winter an entire flock of geese settled on her ever widening back.

I'd like to think her growing girth is due to over-imbibing of lake waters but alas, the less she gets to drink the fatter she grows. I've not heard her complain about this lack. She knows how to accept the vagaries of earth events having billions of years experience.

I watch Superior's waters heave and sigh around Nessie's thighs and wonder if someday I'll walk across the lake floor to her side to apologize for my role in her exposure.

The Minneapolis Star Tribune named Beryl as a "Best of 2006 Minnesota Authors." Her book The Scent of God was a “Notable” Book Sense selection for April 2006.