The first time I experienced a lake that looked like an ocean was Lake Eerie. I was just a kid and Eerie seemed like a fitting name. It was eerie to look out on the horizon and see no sign of land or life on the other side and it was all freshwater, not an ocean. That same uncomfortable feeling gripped me when I first looked out onto Lake Ontario.
It was late August and the beach was deserted. There were no mountains or trees in the distance like we were used to seeing across Lake Washington.
It didn't look any more inviting in the fall, just brown and lonely.
The winter was even more barren and foreboding and uncomfortably cold. I took to calling it the blue-gray abyss.
Still, we kept visiting it. It wasn't until Spring that I started to see it in a different light.
It wasn't always ominous. Sometimes it sparkled.
And sometimes the color was hard to describe. What would you call this? Teal?
The water became daily therapy for our old arthritic dog and searching for beach glass became a daily meditation for me.
Somewhere along the way I realized this place is not the depressing abyss I once thought it was.
It all depends on the way you look at it.