Last week I got to spend quality vacation time with my family in upstate New York. We were staying right along the shore of Lake Ontario. It’s funny that this great lake is called a “lake,” because when you stand on the shore it really looks like an ocean as far as your eye can see. The morning after we first arrived, the sun rose brilliantly on the eastern horizon, lighting up the clear glassy surface of Lake Ontario as far as the furthest horizon. That day held a glorious sunrise on a glassy lake surface, and a radiant sunset over the lake. But the next day was an entirely different story.
The locals told us that up state New York has had precipitation totals which have surpassed all of their known weather records. Thus Lake Ontario is fuller than it has ever been, and any time any wind whips up, the shoreline has been at risk. That very next day a storm whipped up, and the glassy surface of the Lake turned into a churning mass of 3 to 4 four-foot whitecaps that started eating away the back lawn of our shoreline rental. The waves starting hitting the back slider door, and they kept coughing up this disgusting, smelly brown-green ooze all over the formerly lush green lawn. But wait there’s more! The storm coughed up a plastic ladder that had snapped off from someone’s dock from miles away and drifted onto our back lawn. The funniest thing of all is that our storm gave us the free 16 inch fish as seen in the photo – if we had any interest in cooking it for dinner. A Californian like me found myself completely fascinated by the whole thing; as long as we didn’t get washed away.
The next day, as I took photos of the aftermath, it struck me that storms have a habit of revealing what’s really going on under the surface. This is not only true of lakes, but it’s also very true of lives. Storms in my life churn up the deeper stuff inside of me, and bring it to the surface. So here’s to the “dead fish,” and “plastic ladder,” deep inside of me that will be revealed in the next storm of my life.