The lake can have profound
influences on the weather.
Being a large flat space open
to the winds and in cool
contrast to the land sets up
some unique storms.

These can include
tornadoes, rain events and
worse.  One of the more
dreaded is the fall storm that
roars down from the north
as the entire lake comes
with it, filling the south basin
and forcing water over the
shoreline. Such a storm
capped off the season last
year.
This massive tree trunk came on to the lake in the flood debris three or so years ago. At first it sat near the
waterline like a beached whale. Later, a storm surf carried it up on land where it sat content at the high
water mark for a few seasons. It was a great place to stash things, take a seat or jump the dogs. In the fall
storm, that water mark was raised so high it sent this giant back to the tree line, scraping shore trees down
in its path.
The sands from our respective beaches have been blown to the north and once there a way back into the
strip of forest that ringed the bay. The sands extend deep in toward the marsh in some places. Storm
debris was carried in as well. The water retains the tea coloured hue it takes on in such a gale. The net
result is a broad beach only a minority of villagers know about and use. It will take an equally severe storm
from the west to blow this sand back into the lake where the currents can spread it throughout the bay's
shoreline once again, if ever.
Aftermath. Over the winter of 2012, the Village used 1.5 million flood dollars to ring the bay in a construction
of fabric and limestone. This involved moving machinery on to the beach to remove whatever was there
including trees, brush, huge driftwood tree trunks, rocks and whatever was in the way. It was a replay of the
dike building period when bobcats ran rip shod over properties building up the dike to 713 feet. This has
now been assisted by this construction which forms a storm of the century barrier against the waves.
The rock in the foreground has been a marker for water levels. It once nested on a sand spit, a beach that
extended around the cove. The large rocks on the beach in the background were once hidden under sand,
a continuous band of it. Here in this spring view, shocked cottagers are exploring the new beach world.
There is not one, merely rocks everywhere. At its highest, the lake covered the large rock. Normally, it sits
about a foot and a half or so out of the lake. I would hoist the dogs up on it on shore walks. Now in the
summer of 2012 it remains high and dry. The irony is not lost on me that the summer of water should be
followed by the summer of little water. The storm did tear into some properties, it did flood a few extremely
low properties, and it threatened many. This level of protection though sacrifices the natural shoreline for a
dangerous, unsightly fortress.

The beach, it turns out is just sitting off shore. A swim resulted in finding a large sandbar just about two
hundred feet out which extends along the shore. For whatever reason, the sands want to avoid their new
situation. Were they to be returned, the shoreline would be a ring of limestone and sand, a small
compensation for the coves and brushes lost. There would also be danger then as these rocks are vicious
having tripped Duck and me up several times. Little legs and limbs could easily be snapped. The rock has
been set flush with the matting rather than raked, forming steps. I call it simply the urinal. Many have just
sold and left. A toast to global warming.