The Space In Between

The weather forecasters are prediciting a boatload of rain for us this afternoon.  It's a huge system, waiting to happen, with possibly one to three inches of new water for us.  Whereas the fall, winter and early spring were drought conditions, we still are happy to accept all the moisture that mother nature chooses to send our way.  The lake continues to be at a good level, and we even have a bit of beach exposed once again. Kids have been in swimming, so the water must be warming up as well.

Just a bit ago, we had an opening shot in this rainstorm, but now it has stopped and we are in that space in between the rain cells.  It's always an interesting spot to see.  The clouds are building, and there is a sense of something BIG about to happen.  I still remember the moments leading up to the blowdown storm, thirteen years ago.  The air felt heavy and charged, and the lake was extremely calm.  We watched a funny little chipmunk at our feet, acting strangely toward us. Then the skies got that greenish hue......So far, thankfully, nothing since has matched the eerie feeling of that time block.

Yesterday, we got to watch somebody else's storm a-brewing.  On my way to work out at the point, I noticed the dark skies in Canada, so I went back to retrieve my camera.


The northern skies were dark and thundering, while the southern half was calm, blue, and bright with sunshine.  We had a few clouds, but just the typical cumulus ones--no big storm clouds.

It was neat to watch the Canadian storm, while feeling totally safe and dry from my perch on our shoreline.  I saw a few faraway bolts of lightning, but the thunder indicated that it was several miles away.  Still, I kept a watchful eye and ear.

Wisely, these folks were watching, too, and decided to make a run for it back to safety, should things turn bad.  As they zipped by, I saw a loon dive under the water.  He had been on patrol, watching the shore, but he didn't seem too concerned about the weather.  That's the life of a loon, I guess.

Shortly after that, the wind picked up all over the lake, and our skies grew dark.  The waves got larger, and it seemed as though we were going to become a part of the storm, rather than just audience members.  But the rains didn't come, only the wind.  With it came a drop in temperature and humidity.  When I returned to the lodge, I saw that the thermometer had fallen from 80 to 68.  Nature's air conditioning had returned.

On a different note, since I mentioned loons, I should say that it is once again the season of babies.  I read that the loon pair at Chik Wauk museum successfully hatched two chicks last weekend.  And some of our guests who portaged in to Topper Lake yesterday were treated to the sight of a little one swimming alongside its parent.  Time to be on the lookout--I have yet to see one of these fuzzy little grey things.