ODE TO LAKE ONTARIO

I've just returned from a week-long tour around the shores of Lake Ontario.

Yesterday's leg of the journey brought me home from the Lake's western shores at Lake Oswego. It rained much of the way, lending me the perfect time to reflect on the marvels this Great Lake opened to my eyes over the previous many days of traveling through Kingston, Ontario, down along the northern shores to Mississauga, and then down through the Niagra shores and vineyards, thence across the southern shores in New York State.

I am forever greatful to have met so many fantastic people on this adventure. To my cousin Dennis, a most congenial traveling companion, to the many friends who guided and hosted us in Canada, I offer this little Ode to Lake Ontario, the lines of which came mostly to me during the hours of rain riding yesterday.

LAKE ONTARIO

She is far more beautiful than one can imagine this Great Lake of the North. Her measure takes days and days to appreciate. She can inspire and confound. She can laugh and she can cry.

Her shores gather geese and goats, swans and sailors, villages and parks, travelers and farmers, great cities and copious vineyards. She welcomes them all.

She is like an Indian tale, a Princess who walks on water. She gives life to her fish, to her birds and butterflies, and to all those in need of her cool wetness and abundance.

Were she a woman, a man would be in love. Were she a woman, a man would gladly write poetry a thousand years to see her smile a day.