Superior.

Lake Superior: the most N.W. of the five Great Lakes, and the largest body of fresh water in the world.
-- Grolier’s Encyclopedia Canadiana, 1958 –

“I consider this whole region doomed to perpetual barrenness.”
-- Thomas McKenney, superintendent of United States Indian Affairs, 1825 –

What am I doing?
Drinking coffee at the mega-bookstore and looking at a book called The Wolf’s Head: Writing Lake Superior. It’s by Peter Unwin. Horribly interesting book. (Published by Viking, 2003).
To me, Superior is an ominous thing.
I have driven along the north-eastern shoreline of Lake Superior, for a full day.
Several times.
Endless, it seems.
It is an awe-inspiring freshwater ocean.
From Thunder Bay to Sault Ste. Marie, 705 kilometres.
438 miles. And there is as much of the shoreline west of Thunder Bay, with no highway beside it.
It is crazily huge-normous. Lake Superior could contain all the other Great Lakes plus three more lakes the size of Lake Erie.
I just may pick up this book (buy it) and read of all the Superior / Ojibway lore.

I once wrote a poem.
An homage to the King of Lakes!
This is my tribute to the Big Ol’ Tub of H2O!
It’s called.... oddly enough...

Superior

The regular get-together rolls around.
Michigan, Huron, Erie, Ontario.
The Big Guy is invited, but he never shows.

Too busy… too many boats on his back, says Erie.
Too deep, murky, heavy for his own good, says another.
(Nodding all around, considerable turbulence.)
Unfriendly is what! Strutting his own endless shoreline
like he’s the King of Freshwater.

Then Michigan, silent until now, clears his long narrow throat:
Calm down lads. He is the King, but remember…
He’s only above us if we’re looking at a map!

Have you ever heard four lakes laugh?
I mean all at once?
It shook birds out of their trees in Buffalo,
And sent several quick waves to smack that Pier
jutting out into the Chicago harbor.