A couple of weeks ago, my sister and a couple of friends went over to a local historic site by the lake for a walk on a pleasant fall day. We haven’t had much rain in a while, the the lake level is down quite a bit. A lot, in fact. People in the area haven’t seen it this low in a long time.
We were able to walk along a good part of the lake-bottom, which is now a 20-30 foot-wide strip of barren rocky ground in some areas. The coolest part was, eons ago there was a train-tack that ran across a bay, from the town where I live to the town, well, on the other side of the bay. Go figure.
Anyway, it hasn’t been there during my lifetime at least, but sometimes when the water is low you can see a bit of a point from the far side where the tracks once lay. Now, the water is so low, there is a point from our side that is well above lake-level, half way across the bay.
So, naturally, we walked half way across the bay.
Because we simply couldn’t go any further.
Yet another tale to tell the grandchildren.
I walked half way across the lake.