Satellite View of Gichi-Gami
In 1975, the Edmund Fitzgerald sank in Gichi–Gami (Gumee) and not long after Gordon Lightfoot wrote his classic song about it. Twenty-nine men drown in what experts said were historic gales and maybe the biggest waves the lake has produced. I was a sophomore in high school when it happened, and don’t recall hearing about it, or grieving it if I did know.
The lake feels wild everywhere, but further north it looks more wild and feels even more like an ocean. That’s where I saw winter sea smoke and pancake ice for the first time. If you keep driving, you’ll end up at the border of Canada. I’ve never crossed the border into that part of Canada, but I know two people who are from the Thunder Bay area. One of them bought a painting I did because it reminded her of the view through her window in Thunder Bay. It looked like the Sleeping Giant peninsula across the bay while her tea steamed on a table in front of her. I wasn’t thinking about a specific place when I painted it, but after finishing, it reminded me of standing with my family on a gulf beach in Florida, scattered with bonfires, and Jupiter floating near the horizon. What others see probably isn’t what I see and that makes me happy. Sometimes it feels like a collection of pieces and associations that don’t suggest one idea, or one specific place, but encourages everyone’s memories, their stories, more stories.
Further east along the southern end of the lake near Bayfield one fall weekend, I was happy because we had dinner at a small restaurant that served comfort food. It had big, divided windows and the interior was paneled with milled driftwood, dark shingles, and strands of colored micro lights lining the rafters. We also discovered a coffee and pastry shop, a diner, and a working farm with a store selling local crafts inside a huge hay barn. We stayed in a simple motel near the water for two nights after escaping the Twin Cities to spend time near the lake, and woods. Most of the beaches we walked were bordered by paper birch, aspen, and white pine. Besides exploring that weekend, my wife and daughter read a lot. I read a little and drew more. All of us napped and slept under a variety of quilts while outside the water lapped all day, everyday along the beach.
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47.7°N 87.5°W
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Songs :: The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald and Sundown by Gordon Lightfoot, Trans Continental by Shaggy Mane, Simple Twist of Fate by Bob Dylan, and Sail On Sailor by The Beach Boys
© C. Davidson